I saw my mother chatting with others, her whole body shining with light, as if the whole world had made way for her. When my father was not at home and the neighbors did not come to play, she was like a piece of melted milk candy, withering down.

Make some cheap tea and drink it yourself.

"Mom, why is my father not at home every day?" I asked my mother.

"He! Alas! He is the busiest person in the world!" My mother's tone was full of sarcasm. She held a cigarette between her fingers and pointed directly at the roof, singing three sighs and telling me my father's story.

In 1966, my father successfully joined the Party and returned home as a soldier, and was elected as the secretary of the village. From then on, he became the son of all the village members, and was no longer my father. Today he helps people slaughter pigs, and tomorrow he helps others

Selling donkeys, sending patients to the hospital, and arranging young people's marriages. My father never tired of doing these things. Apart from eating and sleeping, he would not stay at home for more than five minutes.

That day, my father and several other village cadres were sitting and talking at the team headquarters. It was almost lunch time, and someone suggested that we get together to have a few cups, and everyone agreed.

"Damn it, I wish I had some meat to eat." After finishing the first glass of wine, someone looked at the pickle sticks on the table and sighed.

"Save it, pork is more expensive than gold these days, you can't even get it!" someone interrupted.

"Who has chickens? An old hen that doesn't lay eggs will do, too. Get one and stew it vigorously."

Everyone lowered their heads and said it was okay, but became discouraged when it came to the truth. Even if you don't want to buy some meat during the New Year, who would be willing to offer a live chicken for everyone to share. Everyone was silent, and kept making "chirp, chirp, chirp" sounds with their mouths, sucking

Brine on the pickle sticks.

"Who would kill a dog?" The father, who had been silent for a long time, raised his head, threw away the pickle sticks and beat the table and asked, startling everyone.

"Whoever dares to kill a dog, just kill my big black dog, and we will have some meat too," said the father.

"Then sister-in-law is willing?..."

"Is she willing? I'll give it to you!" My father finished the cup of wine, waved his hand, and rushed to my house with a few men holding sharp knives.

"Where's the big black dog? Where's the dog?" Dad yelled.

The big black dog was taking a nap in the corner. Seeing that the situation was not going well, he stood up, like a child who had done something wrong, with fear in his eyes, and retreated to the corner. Several menacing men came forward, and the big black dog began to whine.

"What's going on!" My mother rushed out of the house and asked, staring at the bright sharp knife in my father's hand.

"Kill the dog and eat the dog meat." Dad seemed to be possessed, and a fierce force enveloped him.

"What are you doing to kill a dog! Huh?" My mother exploded, "Why are you killing a dog properly? You stay away from home all day, and when you come home, you kill the dog with a knife!"

"Stop talking nonsense, we are going to kill the dog for food and wine."

"Then why don't you kill their dogs!"

My mother's last words made my father angry, and probably made him lose face. His face turned livid, and the muscles on his face were squeezed into several lines. He yelled: "Damn it, if someone else kills a dog, look at you.

Crooked, I have to kill him!"

"Kill, kill, kill me too, kill them all," the mother paused for a while, looked at the sharp knife in her father's hand, and finally softened, "I'm pregnant, I can't watch the killing of hunting dogs.

, you can kill him if you want, but don’t kill him at home.”

The father glared at the mother, completely ignoring the meaning of the mother's words. He ordered a few people behind him to tie ropes and chains, and dragged the dog away. The big black dog was so frightened that he forgot to shout.

He looked back at the yard with many white eyes and few black eyes, as he was dragged away like that.

Before dinner, my father came back, staggering drunkenly, holding half a dog leg in his hand.

"You're pregnant, right? Let's make up for it." He looked at my mother while smelling of alcohol, and threw the half-legged dog's leg heavily on the table.

The mother retaliated by chewing the dog's leg. At noon the next day, the mother suddenly felt abdominal pain. She squatted in the toilet for more than an hour, and finally dropped a handful of purple-red things. The mother felt relieved.

, didn’t pay much attention to that thing.

"Huh? I was pregnant so well, why is it gone?" A month later, during a casual chat, the mother said to herself, rubbing her belly.

"What are you eating? You can't eat dog meat during pregnancy, as it will turn into a fetus!" the grandmother said to her mother.

"Oh..." the mother prolonged her voice, and understood everything at once, "Oh! This one deserves to be killed! Give me some dog meat... After eating the dog meat that night, I said my stomach always hurts the next day!"

Because of the dog meat incident, my mother has not been pregnant for ten years.

"If it weren't for that dog meat meal, we would have had children long ago." My mother would say to everyone she met. This was the focus of every chat. At first, everyone expressed sympathy, but then the element of sadness became less and less, and it turned into a joke.

"Don't go out all the time in the future, and do some work at home." The mother was dissatisfied with the father.

"How can I have time? There are so many things in the team."

"What's going on in the brigade! The village doesn't have a penny and is extremely poor. What can happen to this broken brigade? Isn't it just that I can't run away to hunt dogs for this family or chase chickens for that family?!"

"Whoever beats the dog or drives away the chicken? I am the village cadre, and the whole village is counting on me!"

"Yes, you are the busiest in the world. You are busier than ****. Without you, how can the whole village still eat?!"

My father stopped talking and suddenly picked up a steaming teacup on the table (it was one of the few teacups) and smashed it hard on the ground. There was a "pop" sound. Although the ground was made of earth, the cup

It was still torn apart, with pieces of porcelain flying all over the sky.

I was trembling, holding my head and hiding away, not daring to say anything. I was afraid that my father would throw me out in anger, just like the cup was broken into pieces. I was really scared. In this extremely unstable home, I was trembling.

, I always feel like I am floating in the air and dare not land. I wonder if this home will fall apart after landing, and I will fall through the cracks.

After throwing the tea cup, my father kicked the door and ran away into the night. It was past nine o'clock in the evening and it was pitch dark outside.

He angrily came to the melon shed of the production team and wanted to look at the melons with the melon watcher. Seeing his father's pale face, the melon watcher didn't dare to ask, so he ran to the melon field and groped for a ripe melon and handed it to him.

, my father finished the meal in three bites. He sat aside and watched under the kerosene lamp as the melon man loaded gunpowder into the gun.

"Let me help you install it," said my father. After installing it, my father studied the gunpowder by the light in a serious manner.

"Tell me, what is gunpowder made of?" my father asked.

"Be careful, it's dangerous," the melon watcher warned.

My father was not convinced. How dare you, a little melon watcher, teach me a lesson? You are the only one in the village who is sent to look at melons because you are so incompetent! My father was so excited that he held the whole pack of gunpowder in his hand until it made a "crack" sound.

, he tore a piece of newspaper, put gunpowder on it, rolled it into a cigarette shape, and held it toward the lamp.

"Secretary Zhang, it's dangerous!"

Before he finished speaking, the gunpowder "chi" ignited. It was more powerful than his father imagined. "Whoops" and a burst of smoke and flames rushed up to the roof. Then all the gunpowder on the table ignited. Watch the melon people.

Seeing that the situation was bad, he got out of the melon shed and ran away.

My father's eyes were sealed by the fire, and he rolled around in the melon shed and the firelight. Burnt wood and straw kept falling. In the blink of an eye, my father became a man on fire.

When the melon watcher called everyone to come, the fire was almost out, and my father was lying there dying, his arms, half of his body, legs and clothes were burnt and stuck together.

My father stayed in the hospital for three full months before he recovered. It is said that the muscles in his arms and legs rotted away in pieces, emitting a stench. My father finally recovered, but one problem remained. Every summer, his skin became allergic and itchy.
Chapter completed!