The woman who was called mother by the little boy said with a cold face, "My family doesn't have much food anymore. What kind of millet porridge does the old guy drink when he's ready to die? It's a waste. I don't have any food at home. Don't come to my house anymore!"
"
With a bang, the woman closed the door directly after finishing speaking, leaving the boy's thin figure shivering in the wind and snow.
The boy rubbed his eyes, looking at the lights and the smell of meat inside, his stomach growled.
A boy's voice also came from inside: "Mom, is the goose almost ready? Who is outside?"
The woman's voice came out, "It's a wild dog. Don't worry about it. It will be stewed immediately. If you are patient, the food will be more delicious if you are hungry."
The boy outside the door left in despair. After his father died five years ago, his mother left him and remarried someone else, leaving him and his grandfather to fend for themselves.
The boy dragged his cold body to the dilapidated thatched house with earth walls. In the house lay a skinny old man.
The old man coughed a few times and said in a hoarse voice, "The child is back."
The boy wiped away his tears and quickly came over to pour hot water for the old man to drink. The old man sighed and said, "You didn't borrow any rice, did you?"
The boy shook his head, "No, Mom said her family is gone -"
"Hey -" the old man sighed deeply. He stood up tremblingly, but the boy quickly supported him.
The old man came to the dilapidated cabinet, opened the lowest floor of the cabinet, and found a wobble head that was almost moldy and as dry as a brick.
"My child, go and boil some hot water, and we'll make porridge with this."
"Wo Wo Tou!" The boy was surprised, then nodded and went to boil water.
The old man kept crying as he watched the boy go to boil water. "How could there be such a cruel mother in this world——"
Stew the dry and hard wowotou in the pot, and you will soon have a bowl of porridge that doesn't taste very good.
"Grandpa, drink first." The boy held back his saliva and held the porridge for the old man to drink.
The old man shook his head and said with a smile, "There is one more. I will find it later and you can help grandpa cook a bowl alone. Grandpa's tuberculosis cannot be transmitted to you."
"Really? Grandpa won't lie to me?"
"real."
The boy was willing to drink it. Although the porridge had a slightly musty taste, it was so sweet in the boy's mouth that he finished the large bowl quickly and even licked the corn dregs in the bowl clean.
"I'll help grandpa cook again. Grandpa, where is the wowotou?"
But the old man shook his head with tears in his eyes, looked at the child who had finished the porridge, and said, "My child, come here and let grandpa take a good look at you."
The boy passed by, and the old man stroked his thin face and kept crying, "Grandpa, I'm sorry for you, I'm sorry for you, I don't have the ability to raise you -"
The boy also cried and shook his head, "No, no, grandpa, you will be fine. You are not sorry at all, little dog."
The old man held the child and silently wiped away his tears. Gradually, a look of pain appeared on the boy's face. He clutched his stomach and huddled on the ground in pain, rolling on the ground.
Soon after, the old man held the boy's body foaming at the mouth and cried loudly, "My child, my child - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, the dog boy."
There is rat poison in the cornucopia that you eat. It was originally left for you by your grandpa, but grandpa really can’t imagine how you will live in this world after grandpa leaves?
If I can't raise you in this life, my grandpa will be a cow and a horse for you in the next life."
He would rather take this child away than let him
He continues to suffer because he knows that after his death, this child will only face starvation and freezing to death!
The old man knocked over the oil lamp, the oil flowed on the mat, and the flames began to spread.
Soon after, the thatched house in the ice and snow turned into a blazing sea of fire. In the sea of fire, the old man held the boy's body. Perhaps at this moment, they found some warmth in this winter.
"………………"
That year, the number one scholar was born into a family that was relatively comfortable with food and clothing.
Before the number one scholar was born, his father would recite poems, songs, and poems, including the Four Books and Five Classics, in front of his mother's belly every day. His father was a scholar and a prominent figure in the town. He didn't even have to kneel down and salute when he saw the county magistrate.
The father caressed the mother's belly and said, "My child, you must be the number one scholar in high school and honor your ancestors!"
No accident, the child was named Zhuangyuan by his parents after he was born.
At the age of two, as soon as Zhuangyuan learned to speak, his father began to teach him how to recite the Three-Character Sutra.
At the age of three, the number one scholar was reciting the Book of Songs. He looked at the children playing outside with longing in his eyes. The number one scholar said to his mother, "Mom, I also want to go out and play in the mud with them."
What greeted me was my mother’s scolding: “No, they are a group of country bumpkins who have no future and can only eat in the fields!
My child, you are going to become the number one scholar in the future, how can you associate with those who are high officials? You must recite all the Book of Songs today, otherwise you won’t be able to eat!"
At the age of four, the number one scholar composed a five-character poem "Ode to the Goose"
Goose, goose, goose, cut the curved neck with a knife.
Pluck the hair and chop it into pieces, cover the pot with sauerkraut!
As soon as this poem came out, the number one scholar quickly became a famous child prodigy from all over the country. Even the five-star critic in the Literature House lamented that he was not as good as the number one scholar when he was young.
The number one scholar won the title of child prodigy, but the number one scholar was not happy at all. He just wanted to play with his peers for a while every day, even if he squeezed out half a quarter of an hour out of the fourteen hours of study time a day.
The number one scholar studies hard every day under the high pressure of his parents who want their children to succeed in the name of love.
When he was twelve years old, he first fell in love, and the number one scholar met Bai Yueguang, the one in his heart. She was just a little village girl of the same age, illiterate and not very knowledgeable, from a peasant family.
But the number one scholar fell in love with her innocence, simplicity, and kindness, and would secretly climb over the wall to have a tryst with her for half a stick of incense every day, which was the time the number one scholar used to go to the toilet.
Meeting her every day for half a stick of incense became the only comfort in the life of the top scholar's crazy study.
When she was fifteen years old, the number one scholar mustered up the courage to hold her hand and said, "When I become a scholar, I will ask my mother to come to you to propose marriage."
The girl smiled and shed tears, nodded and said yes.
When you were sixteen years old, you were admitted as the top scholar as expected. You happily told your parents what you thought. Your parents were furious, saying that those country girls were not from the same family and were not worthy of you.
The first time you quarreled with your parents and got angry and insisted on getting married, your mother threatened to die, so you gave in to filial piety.
After that, your mother went to the girl's house and made a big fuss, calling her a little vixen who had seduced you, and said countless hurtful words. The girl's parents actually joined in and scolded the girl because they didn't want to offend your family, who had gained a reputation in the area.
That year, the girl drowned herself in the river.
At the age of 20, he passed the test and became the top scholar among tens of thousands of candidates across the country, making him famous all over the world. That poem, which is about ten years of life and death, is unforgettable without thinking about it. It is so desolate that there is no place in a solitary tomb thousands of miles away.
