Just because I went out to buy oranges that my son liked to eat, I encountered an oncoming truck. He passed away, leaving behind his two-year-old son and his wife, the CEO, who cried heartbrokenly. After my death, my wife knelt in front of my broken body and promised again and again that she would take good care of our son and herself. It wasn't until the death anniversary three years later that the ghost from hell curled his lips and registered, "Master Pei, your sacrifice this year... Is even shabbier than last year." "It's only been three years. Is your wife bankrupt or has a change of heart?" Seeing that the money that could fill eight large cartons at the beginning turned into a package covered with mud and wrapped in torn newspapers, I stared at the unfamiliar handwriting on the package slip and wondered, could this really be sent by Xu Jingya, who has always liked me since childhood? And when the muddy envelope fell at my feet, revealing a few familiar, crooked handwritings, "Dad, Yangyang misses you so much." Finally, the blood all over my body froze, like a lightning strike on the top of my head. This year's sacrifice was burned for me by my son Yangyang.
