What Kind of Book Is Suitable for Middle-Aged Uncles to Read?
Views
17.5M
Books
666
Recommendations
1.1k
Updated
23h ago
I want to read a book similar to "Stealing a Piece of Sky". I recommend "Stealing a Piece of the Sky", a novel from the 1990s. The inspirational ideals and motivation are in line with the memories and struggles of people after the 1990s.
When you reach a certain age, your body starts to settle accounts with you. I can't keep my stomach in check, my drinking capacity is dropping, and the medical check-up sheets are getting longer every year. Don't panic, this book of Materia Medica does not ask you to memorize soup songs, but tells you the story of three hundred medicinal herbs to tell you why your body calls the police and how to reconcile with it. Not preachy, not mysterious, easy to understand and useful. Turning two pages before going to bed is better than watching short videos. After a man reaches forty, he must learn to take care of himself.
"Who is kneeling to give away my kingdom?!" Zhu Di, Emperor Wu, Shangguan Wan'er, Di Renjie, etc. Came through time... With novel ideas and outstanding literary talent! Well worth reading! [Like][Like]
Such! May the Year of the Horse begin with good fortune and good fortune! Watch the martial arts drama for the first time, showing a strong sense of righteousness and ambition! With a grand historical background, watch the rivers and lakes save the temple and fight for power, and reward the heroes to save the country and promote justice! Tuibeitu, Tao Te Ching, Yi Jin Jing, Five Elements and Bagua, Qi Men Dun Jia are integrated into the martial arts of good and evil! Let's look at the Republic of China, a time of national catastrophe. Where did the gold, power, beauty, and wealth go?
"The Play Next Door" - Dedicated to all lost and unlost human events --- How long has it been since you heard the heartbeat of an old man? Not the kind captured by a stethoscope in a consulting room. He was talking about an ordinary evening decades ago, when the fire in the stove reflected his mother's face. He suddenly turned his head away and was silent for a while - at that moment, a tremor as thin as a gossamer rose up in his throat. "The Play Next Door" is about people who hear this kind of heartbeat. --- [Grave Keeper]: The grave is the root, and he is the road sign for wanderers to return home. Lao Zhou has guarded the ancestral grave for sixty years. There are seventy-two graves, and he can read out the life of each person buried in each grave with his eyes closed. Which family has an ancestor who is a carpenter, which family has produced scholars, and which family's daughter is married to the other side of the mountain and buried back to her parents' home after her death. Only three words "Zhou's daughter" are engraved on the stele. On Qingming Festival, a wanderer returning from afar couldn't find the location of his ancestral grave, so he walked there with him. After everyone finished burning the paper, he asked, "Would you like to hear who is buried under this?" He took out the frayed notebook from his arms and read out each word. I thought about the whiplash on my great-grandfather's back, I thought about how my great-grandmother took off the silver bracelet she had given as a dowry in exchange for her husband's life, and I thought about how that name that had been crushed into powder by the years was once a person who had lived, loved, and suffered pain. The wanderer knelt in front of the grave, resting his head on the loess, with tears streaming down his face. Later, people in the village moved their graves, and those who settled in the city settled in the city. Lao Zhou's notebook was filled with stories about the seventy-two tombs, but fewer and fewer people came to listen. Someone asked him: Why do you keep these things? He said: "The grave is the root. The gravekeepers are not guarding the dead, but are the road signs for the wanderers to return home." - This article is written to all those who have left their hometown. What you cut is not the kite string, it is your last connection with where you came from. --- [Speaker]: The first word is the foundation of life. Chen Jinyan taught 13,000 babies how to say their first word. She never taught "Dad" or "Mom", only "Thank you" and "Love". Parents came with their children in their arms, stuffed her with money, asked for help, and said all kinds of nice things, just asking her to change her rules. She doesn't change. She said: "The first word is the background of life. Title means asking, and gratitude means giving. If you teach him to ask, he will wait for the world to revolve around him all his life; if you teach him to give, he will know how to hand himself out." Someone left with the child in his arms. Someone stayed. Many years later, those children grew up. Some people became doctors, some became teachers, some sold sweet potatoes on the street, and some gave up their seats to the elderly in the subway. Their parents have long forgotten the awkwardness of "not teaching their parents". They only remember that their children know how to say "thank you" to others since they can speak. The three-year-old boy who took off his shoes to the tenant's children, the six-year-old girl who called her mother and said, "You have to take care of yourself," the ninety-year-old old man who was lying on the hospital bed, confused but still thanking the caregiver - the first line of their lives was painted by an illiterate tailor lying by the window, using the softest voice, one stroke at a time. ——This article is written for all anxious parents. The first word you teach your child is not the pronunciation, but the way he looks at the world. --- [Shroud Tailor Lady]: She lets the people leave wearing their own stories. Su Nianci sewed one thousand, two hundred and thirty-seven shrouds. Every time she makes a piece, she will ask: "What do you love most, miss most, and can't let go of in this life?" After asking, she embroiders it on the lining. It is embroidered in places where no one can see it - the inside of the collar, the hems of the cuffs, the back of the skirt, and the layer close to the chest. Zheng Shenzhi, an old school teacher, taught "The Analects" all his life. He was labeled as a rightist and died on the farm. The lining of his shroud was embroidered with the following words: "It's great to learn and practice it over time. It's a joy to have friends come from far away." - This is a sentence he has taught for forty years. He wore this sentence as if he were wearing his whole life. Lin Fengying, a female silk reeler, was widowed and raised four children. During the most difficult years, she saved her own food rations for her children. Her legs were swollen from hunger. She also took odd jobs in an embroidery factory, and a peony cost three cents. The lining of her shroud was embroidered with a wild peony. The petals were not so regular, and only the tips of the petals bloomed a little crimson. ——She embroidered tens of thousands of flowers. She walked away wearing the flowers she had embroidered, opened the door, and saw spring in her eyes. Su Nianci said: "A person's life is like a book. The cover is given by parents, and the back cover is given by children. What I do is just draw a page for him. Draw it where he can see it." - This article is written to all those who are afraid of death. Death is not about putting on a cookie-cutter shroud, it is about saying goodbye to the world while wearing the story you cherish most in your life. --- [Oral history collector]: Paper burns, but heartbeat does not. Xu Huaiyuan memorized 3,724 oral narratives and wrote them in regular script for 68 years. He remembered the seventh grandfather's story about the whip wounds on his great-grandfather's back - in the second year of Tongzhi's reign, the officers and soldiers beat up the clan leader, and his great-grandmother kowtowed and the blood came out, and she stuffed the dowry silver bracelet into the pocket of the leader. He remembered how San Auntie talked about the day she got married - the red hijab was made by her mother after she took apart her own wedding dress, the sedan was carried by the clan members in turns, and the illiterate man stood on the other side of the bridge, smiling stupidly, with sweaty palms. He remembered his second aunt's story about how she broke her arm while climbing a tree to retrieve magpie eggs when she was seven years old. Her mother carried her on a thirty-mile mountain road to set bones, crying as she walked. It was the last time her mother left the village in her life. These notes were burned during the Anti-Japanese War, and he re-recorded them. It was confiscated during the "Cultural Revolution" and he remembered it again. It had been sunk in a dry well for fifteen years. When it was dug out, the pages were covered with mold. He dried, framed, and re-copied each page. Someone asked him: What is the use of remembering these? He couldn't answer. He just felt that there was light in the eyes of those old people when they said these words. He remembered it all his life, but he just didn't want those lights to go out. ——This article is written for everyone who feels that they are "unimportant". Your heartbeat is remembered, and your story is told. As long as one person remembers you, you are not truly dead. --- These four stories are about four professions that are about to be lost. Gravekeeper, opener, shroud tailor, oral history collector. There is no business in which one can make a fortune. None of them will be included in the "high-paying career rankings." None of them can be printed on the admissions brochure and attract young people to fill in their applications. But these four professions are related to each of us - where we come from and where we are going. It's about the first sound we make when we come to this world, and the last piece of clothing we wear when we leave this world. It's about the names that are about to be forgotten, and the heartbeats that shouldn't be blown away. "The Play Next Door" is not about strange people and strange things, but about people in ordinary alleys who stick to one thing for a lifetime. They don't feel like they're doing something great. Lao Zhou just felt that he had guarded those tombs for decades and was familiar with them. If he didn't go there, they would be deserted. Chen Jinyan just thinks that when white cloth falls into a dyeing vat, the first color is the most interesting. If it is dyed correctly, the color will be correct for life. Su Nianci just felt that when people leave, they should wear their own stories. Xu Huaiyuan just felt that there was light in the eyes of those old people when they said these words to him. They have no grand words, no grand narrative, and no ambition to change the times. They were just doing what they had to do. One year, ten years, sixty years, a lifetime. Then they get old. They're gone. But the few things they left behind - the blank notes on the seventy-two graves, the "thank you" said by thirteen thousand children, the dark patterns on the linings of one thousand two hundred and thirty-seven shrouds, and the three thousand seven hundred and twenty-four oral histories - that little thing is still there. Like the 123-year-old camphor tree at the entrance of the village, it neither bears fruit nor can it serve as a pillar. But when everyone who leaves his hometown looks back and sees it, he knows where to go. ——How long has it been since you heard the heartbeat of an old man? Open "The Play Next Door". There are 3,724 heartbeats here, still beating gently, one by one, between the pages. ——They are waiting for you to listen.
Chapter 22 "Ghost of the Night, King of Speculation" Amu sneaked out of the room. He guessed that Mr. Lin must be asleep! With such a good teacher to guide me and give myself such a good place to live, I won't let myself go hungry from now on! I must not waste any precious second of this time! We can't let him down! He wants him to see his efforts and repay him! Perhaps this is the incomparable desire in human nature to repay the kindness given by drops of water! Amu secretly swore in his heart! In his memory, he imitated how Mr. Lin turned on the computer and opened the two trading software! The twelve monitor screens on the walls of the room lit up instantly! A scene of thousands of horses galloping appeared in front of him! It was really shocking, Amu's palms were so hot that he was sweating slightly! It's better to look at the market like this, as if a general is standing on a high platform and looking at the overall situation! He needs to quickly become familiar with what's on these screens! International futures commodities, domestic futures commodities, and domestic options commodities are all divided into different categories on each big screen! There are also more than a dozen products set up by Mr. Lin, with separate split-screen settings! He saw crude oil options jumping on a monitor screen alone! Almost all domestic commodities are suspended late at night, with only some metals such as nickel, copper and other commodities fluctuating in a small space! In fact, during the day, he secretly paid attention to the crude oil system in the international market. Both Brent and domestic crude oil experienced a long correction and stabilized, and it was a powerful stop-fall lock generated by a huge red energy column! There will definitely be abnormal fluctuations tonight! Or it indicates the possibility of a certain counterattack! Why was this number fluctuating at 3 just now, and now it has quietly climbed to 5. It seems that a hidden force is quietly pushing it! He looked at the display that showed Brent crude oil alone! Brent crude oil is also rising simultaneously! Opportunity, the entry point is now, 5.25 Yuan, buy 20 lots, take a look first! The trial offer of 150,000 yuan was sold instantly! The numbers are still rising and changing, 5.65, 40 Lots were all cut in, and 226,000 were traded almost in the blink of an eye.
(Rebirth+Official career+Single heroine) An officialdom novel, with a grassroots background, starting in a rural town, no beauty, no harem. After being executed for murder and corruption in his previous life, Ren Zhengxi was reborn before the start of his official career in 1995. He decided to change his past and return to politics. Relying on the memories of previous lives to lay out the development plan for the country, as the position rose, I gained a deeper understanding of being an official...
That Person in That Village, That Fool
100.2kReads9.6Score15kShelves
Deducing Mountains and Rivers
4Reads5.8Score—Shelves
Holding the Galaxy on Sleeves: Falling in Love with a Cold Face and a Sword
—Reads—Score—Shelves
From Courtyard Houses to the New Century
1.1kReads5.8Score—Shelves
Xuan Yue Qingxu
—Reads—Score—Shelves
Fengxueqingyake
—Reads—Score—Shelves
Searching for Misty Rain
1Reads—Score—Shelves
Two Layers of Dreams, Two Hundred Million, Two "Water Leaks"
3Reads8.4Score—Shelves
A History of China That Is Addictive Once You Read It
38.2kReads9.5Score6.2kShelves
Broken Glass Tells Story of Yingying
—Reads8.5Score—Shelves
I Am the King on Peach Blossom Island
3.3kReads6.5Score306Shelves
Searching for Red Clothes in the Misty Rain in the South of the Yangtze River
—Reads—Score—Shelves
Strange Outing in the Countryside
735Reads6.5Score113Shelves
Zeng Guofan's Academic Methods
343Reads9.0Score207Shelves
Looking for Old Friends in Gusu During the Snowstorm
—Reads—Score—Shelves
The Invincible Small Farmer in the Countryside
235Reads5.8Score—Shelves
After I Lost My Job, I Became a Mind-Reading Master
2Reads—Score—Shelves
Lies Ember
1.7kReads9.4Score107Shelves
My Days in the Psychological Listening Room
—Reads—Score—Shelves
Wang Ergou Damei Village Human Creation Plan
301kReads8.0Score24.7kShelves
Cripple? No, No, No, You All Have to Kneel Down and Call Me Sir.
17.6kReads8.2Score1.2kShelves
Wash Away the Smoke and Peace: Those Events of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms
52Reads—Score—Shelves
Emperor Wu Linqing: Restoring the Ming Dynasty with Red Tower in Hand
32Reads—Score—Shelves
Travel Through the Southern Song Dynasty and Become an Iron Sword Hero
8Reads5.8Score—Shelves
National Alchemist
36Reads5.8Score—Shelves
Part-Time Job Notes
30Reads—Score—Shelves
After That Night, King Bing Fell into Desire
12.1kReads8.3Score1.7kShelves
Asura Suppresses Purgatory, I Alone Can End the Fate of the World's Nations
1.3kReads9.2Score151Shelves
Official Career Boom: I Rely on My Medical Skills to Reach the Pinnacle of Power
9.2kReads8.8Score1.2kShelves
Online Games Reshape Life
10.5kReads9.5Score746Shelves
My Dongguan Dream: Sister Mei
229.2kReads8.5Score6.4kShelves
Shocked, My Online Girlfriend Is Actually the CEO of an Industry Giant!
—Reads8.5Score—Shelves
Next Door Drama
5Reads—Score—Shelves
After Having Dinner and Drinking Together in a Shared House, I Was Actually Bitten by My Roommate on the Sofa!
1Reads8.5Score—Shelves
Wife, Are You Still Lying to Me?
47Reads8.4Score—Shelves
My Wife Is a Nightclub Owner
11Reads8.5Score—Shelves
On the Day of the Proposal, the Fiancée Said to Her Boss: Let Him Take Over, He Is Honest and Easy to Deceive.
488Reads9.6Score—Shelves
Sharing Location Exposed My Wife's Secret, I Made Her Lose Her Reputation and Leave the House
889Reads9.8Score—Shelves
Which Face of Mine Do You See?
1Reads5.8Score—Shelves
I Suspected My Wife Was Cheating on Me, so I Hid in a Cardboard Box for Three Days and Three Nights
1.2kReads9.8Score—Shelves
Red Dress from the Quality Inspection Department
2Reads8.5Score—Shelves
Wandering Stock God
174Reads—Score—Shelves
Ming Xue Xue
9Reads5.8Score—Shelves
I Can Simulate It While Sleeping. I Am the Best Actor of Experience.
13.6kReads5.8Score3kShelves
The Scumbag Starts from the End of the College Entrance Examination
513Reads6.0Score—Shelves
Return to Politics
20.2kReads6.8Score1.5kShelves
I Win Life by Dreaming
1Reads6.8Score—Shelves
The Most Popular Female Leader
3.7kReads5.8Score443Shelves
After the Little Cotton-Padded Jacket Leaked, I Took Huang Mao Home
2.2kReads5.1Score121Shelves
Guanyi
32.7kReads7.0Score1.8kShelves