Xu Mingyuan has known since he was a child that he wanted to get out of that small seaside village.
My father was a salt worker and became taciturn after being laid off. His mother raised him in poverty. He studied hard and was admitted to a provincial university, then to a graduate school, and entered the Beijing Financial Street - becoming what the villagers call "the son of a prosperous family."
But when I got to the shore, I realized that there was still sea on the shore.
He worked in the workplace for seven years, suffered from insomnia, went on blind dates, bought a house, and was laid off. When his mother left, he stayed by the bedside. He stayed with his father when he was old. It wasn't until he was in his thirties that he met Xiao Su, a person who, like him, was "not very good". Then they had a daughter and a family.
When my daughter grows up, she wants to go abroad. He sold the house, borrowed money, and let her fly. The daughter came back, bringing her granddaughter with her. Four generations of a family were crowded into that small house, and it was very lively.
The chicken cake steamed by his mother, the watch given by his father, the hand handed over by Xiao Su, and the "Dad" called by his daughter - these small pieces of warmth have sustained him throughout his life.
The last thing he said was: Just live well.
This is not to accept fate, but to understand that - living, loving, and going on are the greatest achievements.
That watch is still running. Passed on to daughters, to granddaughters, from generation to generation, just like those salty things, salty and bitter, but always alive.
