He was as poor as a beggar, but he insisted on giving me a wedding gift of 10,000 yuan. It wasn't until my father took the bundle of money that he realized it was only seven thousand eight thousand.
This is not a story about deception. This is my uncle - an "outsider" who has become the only gravekeeper of the family tomb. He entered this family because of marriage and could never leave again in his life. He once tied his grandfather who committed suicide with a rope and sent him to the hospital, signing "I am responsible" in the silence of his loved ones; he raised two sons, but in his later years he was alone because his sons "missed him" and lived in the only mud-walled house in the village.
And I, the niece who was once served by him with a can of Cantonese fermented dace, started a clumsy guardianship spanning thousands of miles after leaving home for many years: from entrusting someone to bring money every year to declaring "I am your descendant." This is a true story about betrayal and protection, forgetting and remembering. It asks: When we cannot change the heavy fate of our loved ones, what else can we do? The answer is written in the "10,000 yuan" he spent his whole life giving.
Intent: In a village where blood ties and ethics are disordered, how does an ordinary person use silent perseverance to live out a kindness that is heavier than blood ties, and obtains protection beyond blood ties.