The day my grandfather passed away, he was playing games in a rental house. The call was from the neighbor Aunt Wang, saying that the old man was sitting and walking in the store, still holding a piece of red paper in his hand.
By the time he rushed back to the alley entrance of his hometown, it was already noon the next day. The door of the shop where he grew up playing was ajar, and an old wooden plaque - "Chen Ji Incense Candle" - hung on the lintel.
