When I was eight years old, my dad died. My mother took all the pension and my brother and ran away.
The only thing left at home was the five steamed buns that were placed in front of my father's memorial tablet.
I want my grandma who lives alone to take me in.
She is the tigress in the village, and she and my mother are incompatible with each other. They just started tearing and cursing each other in front of my father's death yesterday.
She called me a debt collector.
But in the end, she became the only person in the world willing to take me in.
Later I realized that those curses were the last bit of tenderness that an old man who had been crushed by fate could draw out.
Purpose: Underneath the harshest words and the most difficult existence, there are hidden the most tenacious kindness and the clumsiest affection in human nature.