Thoughts on Wanqing at Dusk: Continued

This is a realistic work that directly faces the dilemma of Chinese-style elderly care. Sixty-eight-year-old Zhang Licheng has been retired for eight years and lived alone for five years. His knees were broken and he couldn't climb high; Lao Wu, who was opposite the door, had his wife to help him get out of the car, but he didn't. With a monthly pension of 10,000 yuan, the cost of medicines and vegetable prices have increased. What I fear most is getting sick. If I get sick, my pension will be gone for half a year. That "clear-eyed woman" Nian Qing asked someone to send a message: "She asked him to live well." His old colleague Lao Li left, and his wife with whom he lived moved away the next day. Lao Wang, the tofu seller downstairs, suffered a stroke and asked his wife to push him out to bask in the sun every day. He looked at it and thought: If I were paralyzed, who would push me? Mr. Zhou, a retired teacher, made an agreement to "live together without getting a certificate." But after living together, we discovered that habits need to be adjusted, property needs to be clearly defined, children have ideas, and trust is difficult to establish. The most difficult thing is that everyone has a corner in their heart that is reserved for others - he left it for Nian Qing, and Teacher Zhou left it for her deceased wife. This is a story about aging, loneliness, companionship and farewell. It asks not only "how to care for the elderly", but also "why to live". When life enters the countdown, when all misses cannot be turned back, when there are still people waiting for you to come home for dinner in the last days - the light from that door is the heaviest evening sunshine in the world.