That Night of Famine, Dad Wouldn't Let Me Look in the Pot

On that night of famine, nine-year-old Liu Mi listened as his mother’s coughs gradually fell silent. The next day, his mother never came out of the room again. The Liu family had been without food for a long time, yet the pot gave off the aroma of meat. Liu Mi wanted to know what was inside, but his father only said, “Don’t wait around.” Later, his mother became known far and wide as a dutiful wife, and his father as a man of supreme filial piety. A memorial arch was even erected at the village entrance. The Liu family used this reputation to change their fortunes, one step at a time. Years later, Liu Mi studied, entered government service, and became known as a dutiful son of a filial family. But he knew his mother had never said any of those beautiful words. Then one day, he was left alone beside his stepmother’s medicine stove. The lid of the pot rattled softly as steam lifted it, just like the pot from all those years ago. Liu Mi drew a packet of medicine from his sleeve. Only then did he understand: The most frightening thing had never been what his father did back then. It was that one day, he too had ended up standing where his father once stood.