Li Family Past Events

It was a snowy night on the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month in 1973. An old man pushed the door open and came in, with snow falling on his shoulders. He sat at the Eight Immortals table, holding a bowl of glutinous rice wine in his palm and looking at it for a long time. "I've had such good wine," he said, "three times in my life." His name is Li Muzi, he is my cousin, thirty years older than me. That night he drank three bowls of wine and walked into the snow. In the spring of the next year, he died. I'm going to pack up the belongings. Three old houses, an old quilt, and two patched gowns. There is a silver hairpin beside the pillow. The head of the hairpin is polished and shiny, and the body of the hairpin is covered with black rust. There are two tombs on the hillside behind the village. A monument is erected with the inscription "Lin Xiaobai's Tomb". The other one has no monument and is covered with grass. The hairpin was inserted into Lin Xiaobai's grave. I don't know who Lin Xiaobai is. I don't know who Liu Yan is. All I know is that on that snowy night, there was an old man sitting in the main room of my house, saying that the Li family at that time was still a neat family. Then he left. This story was written when I was seventy years old. Not because he wanted me to remember. Because if I don't remember it, no one will know. It is a story about waiting. After waiting a lifetime, some people have waited, and some have not. If you want, you can sit down and listen to me. The story is a bit long. But there are only three bowls of wine