C1 (2/2)

My father spat out two mouthfuls of blood, and at last he swung my mother into the room.

Even though my father helped my mother back to her room, he couldn't stop worrying about me, so he stuck close to the window and looked at my grandfather, who was busying himself in the yard, and saw that he buried me in a grave and then silently planted that locust tree on top of it. Then he sat by my grave alone with a kitchen knife, like a cat protecting her cub.

Father saw all of this, his heart was like dying embers, he didn't think that this joyous event would turn into a tragedy in the blink of an eye, he hated Grandfather so much that the roots of his teeth were itching. However, he really had no other way, so he kindly advised my mother from the side.

Actually, there was a reason why my father didn't know what to do with my grandfather. It was because my grandmother passed away after giving birth to my father, leaving behind my grandfather and a father who cried for milk. In other words, my father was my grandfather's son who had grown up through all these years of pooping and urinating, and although the father and son duo didn't interact much with each other due to his grandfather's personality, their relationship was actually deeper than anyone else.

According to my father, when he saw my grandfather do all these things that completely defied common sense and even had the heart to die, he really couldn't bear to leave my mother alone like this. He also secretly felt that there must be a reason for his grandfather to do this, so he waited patiently.

The next day, at 12: 12: 00 PM, there was a sudden change in the sky. The blue sky that was originally ten thousand miles long suddenly seemed to collapse, and in the blink of an eye, it turned dark, especially our small courtyard, where we could barely see our fingers.

So he left my mother and went downstairs, but when he went downstairs, he found that there was a cold wind blowing through the courtyard, blowing the dust into the air. Even the tables and stools that were placed in the yard were blown into the air, but the strange thing was, the locust tree that had only been planted a day ago did not even move in the cold wind, like an old banyan tree that had been planted a thousand years ago.

Grandpa stood alone in the middle of the courtyard like a mountain. He was muttering something, but because the sound of the wind was too loud, he couldn't hear it clearly.

His father wanted to go over, but he found that his body was frozen. He could not take another step and could only stare at the mountainous figure in the hurricane.

After a day and a night of this hurricane, my father finally fainted from the strain. When he woke up, he found my grandfather digging into my grave with a faint smile on his face, as if he were relieved of a heavy burden.

When his father saw this, he couldn't care less about his own weakness. He ran over and began to dig with his hands.

After digging me out, my father took a closer look and discovered that even though I had been buried for two days and nights, my breathing was still extremely weak. He could not help but be overjoyed.

However, when my father went upstairs, he found that my mother had already lost her breath. She was lying quietly on the bed as if she was asleep, and her body was ice-cold.

His father let out a wail, instantly releasing all his anger. He kicked his grandfather, who was stumbling his way up the stairs, directly kicking him down again.

”Scram, scram. I don't want to see you again.” This was the last time his father spoke to him.

Grandfather was not the least bit dissatisfied with his father's actions and words. Instead, he laughed out loud and said, ”I've finally succeeded! I'm done for!”

After his grandfather said this, he left without looking back.

As my father took me and took care of my mother's funeral, he finally made it through.

However, since then, my grandfather has never appeared again, not until my twelfth birthday.

I clearly remember, that was also the first time I found out that I had a grandfather. At that time, he was wearing a tattered cotton-padded jacket covered in oil and mud, his grizzled beard was dirty, and a part of his face was stuck messily to his face. The wrinkles on his face looked like chapped yellow soil, making him look unspeakably pitiful.

I looked at him in confusion. I felt strange and familiar, so I asked my father who he was.

Father didn't say anything. He coldly looked at Grandfather and indifferently said, ”I don't know him!”