A few days ago, my old man celebrated his birthday and returned to his hometown in Northeast China. As soon as he got off the plane, he felt the cold air. The carbon dioxide he breathed turned into fog and floated past his eyes, making the scenery in front of him hazy. I shivered and some resistance made the oxygen under this sky enter my lungs.

I called a taxi at the exit and went straight to my hometown in the countryside. At first, I could see the scenery passing by, but then it was covered with snow. In this environment, I once forgot that I am now sitting in the car. I wanted to open the door several times, and walk down to turn the snow open to see if it is still blood-stained red below, and whether the color has become lighter under the scratches of time...

After getting home, I took off my shoes and went to the kang. The old man and the old lady had a strong body. No matter how old the child was, they were all children in the eyes of their parents. If I wanted to go down to help her cook, she would be pressed on the kang before she could move.

There were many times when I asked them to live with me in the south, but they all shook their heads and rejected them. One time I even tricked them away and finally ran back secretly.

My mother cooked a few dishes, and the old man and I sat cross-legged on the kang and started drinking, almost without saying a word. He sipped me one by one, and at the end, my eyes turned red and my mother was tearful. I couldn't control her tears, and my mother even cried out loud.

"In the city, I bought you a villa. Like the small courtyard in the countryside, you can grow vegetables and raise chickens..." I choked up.

"Sold it, do charity..." My father raised his neck and drank a glass of white wine.

Genes are inherited, we imagined them very much, and only answered one word "OK"

This meal was almost a few conversations. At the end of the meal, I was a little confused and fell asleep lying on the kang that was burned by my mother.

It was already past 11 o'clock in the middle of the night when I opened my eyes. I got up and walked out the door. I remembered that the night in the countryside was much darker than in the city. I couldn't see my fingers. The north wind was howling by, and it was biting cold. Maybe it was a cloudy day. When I was about to look up at the sky, I didn't even see a star.

"Son, call my mother if you have nothing to do..." My mother has become used to me leaving at night every year. She is wearing clothes, with silver hair on her head, and a little hunched. She just looks at my back.

"Okay..." I was a little embarrassed to cry again, gritted my teeth, and after walking a few steps, I still didn't have the courage to turn around, and gritted my teeth and asked, "Mom, I'm also a decade old, why do you spoil me so much?"

"Why don't you call someone else a mom?" Even the voice was so kind.

I didn't reply, and walked out of the yard. After about half an hour, I finally saw a private car on the side of the road. The driver was very good and agreed to take me to the city. He was very talkative, but I nodded with a smile. The distance was not long and it arrived in more than ten minutes. Before getting off the bus, he asked me, "Are you Ding Yu?"

And I shook my head and said that he admitted his mistake.

I took the bus to the airport again, and the plane took off a few hours later. I didn't feel more relaxed until the land was no longer under me. I couldn't describe the comfort of my whole body and mind. Maybe today the sun rises, my parents will be filled with guests and the doors are crowded. Maybe my father smiles happily, but I understand that if his only son is not around, he is unhappy...

After I got home, I sat on the windowsill and looked down at the crowd staggering like an ant below. I was a little stunned. Some of these people, some for houses, cars, tickets, some for ideals and love, but I was the exception, they were all walking the paths that others had walked.

Things like roads are all made by Lu Xun and Dante, but some roads are climbing forward.

Whether it is the beginning of life or death, we are just for others to observe, but we can't do anything.

The weather was capricious and it started to rain sparsely. First, it was light rain and heavy rain. The crowds walking on the road scattered and disappeared in a blink of an eye, leaving only empty streets and air full of holes hit by raindrops.

Perhaps, choosing a path is human instinct, and seeking profit and avoiding harm is also human instinct. I once thought that I was different from others and that I was the most special person in the world. But when I left my hometown, I realized that I was not ordinary anymore. I also seek profit and avoiding harm, and I also embarked on the path others have walked.

It was getting dark and water began to accumulate on the road. Traffic accidents were inevitable. Then there was a sound that I least wanted to hear, the sirens.

I looked down at the red and blue lights, and scenes of the past appeared before my eyes.

First release of the 8th edition

In my spare time, I have thought about what I have done for so many years, what I care about, what I have gained, and what I have lost…

Is it scary, shameful, sad?

Is the person I care about hateful, despicable, and lamentable?

Is the love I get ridiculous, angry, and conceived?

Is it a pity that the love I lost? It's commendable, it's a pity.

Of course, no one has told me the answer to all this.

The vehicle that had a traffic accident downstairs was taken away, the rain stopped, and it was dark. I got off the windowsill, returned to the bedroom, carefully lifted the quilt, then got in, closed my eyes and went to sleep...

I don’t know if there will be a rainbow after the wind and rain, but after the wind stops and rains, the moon will always stick its head out secretly. I feel that it is looking at me, opening its eyes, and looking at it. I don’t know how long it has been, and it has never lie, but it has twisted into two words in my eyes: Disciple.

I struggled to sit up, and these two words have evolved into thousands of sayings now: brother, younger brother, younger brother, subordinate, etc.

But every statement cannot express its original meaning accurately, it may be just like what the Buddha said: a flower, a world, a leaf, a Bodhi, and every simple little thing is worth exploring with care.

The word "disciple" is even more important, and it takes a lifetime or even several lifetimes, generation or even generations to explore...

The moonlight tonight was really annoying. I walked out of bed and pulled the curtains up. The room suddenly became dark. I couldn't adapt and opened it again. The room was quiet and deserted.

I suddenly wanted to do something to live up to the moonlight.

Before I knew it, I sat on the desk, picked up a pen, and wrote down the word "disciple" under the moonlight by devils. Perhaps this is my most primitive idea. I want to use pen and paper to record the disciples confirmed by generations of people.

I lit a cigarette, stared at these two words, both small and small, and when the smoke filled the room, the cigarette butts burned my fingers, I knew that this was reminding me to write. As soon as I wrote a sentence, I heard that the door was opened.
Chapter completed!