Chapter 153
Words:1250Update:22/06/29 08:41:49
Creak …
The old, cracked door of the mud house was pushed open. A skinny, yellow-haired boy, who looked at most five or six years old, staggered across the threshold with a plastic basin of water that did not match his height.
It was noon in the middle of summer. Everyone in the village had gone to work in the fields. Only the chirping of cicadas could be heard on the quiet dirt road. The sun shone through the dense redwood trees, shining brightly on the front yard. The basin of water splashed as the boy staggered, reflecting a golden light.
Finally, he stopped and bent down to put the basin of water on the ground. He picked up a towel with his rough and withered hands and looked up timidly. "Dad."
There was a humanoid figure lying on the broken bamboo chair.
His body was so thin that it was out of shape. Yellow pus was oozing out of his body. The ulceration caused by the injection had spread all over his limbs, emitting an indescribable stench. If it wasn't for his face, which barely maintained its facial features, no one would be able to associate this monster with a human being.
"Dad," the boy raised his voice and called out again.
The man did not respond.
The boy hesitated for a while and wrung the towel dry.
He started to wipe the man's neck with the towel, then carefully dipped it into the worst parts of the man's arm near the veins. He washed the yellowed towel in the basin and wrung it dry. He diligently repeated the steps, and just like that, he wiped the parts of his father's body that could be wiped clean. Even when the water in the basin had turned murky, the man remained strangely quiet and docile. He did not let out the usual painful moans, not even the slightest.
The boy did not understand. He was still too young.
He was only happy that he did not get beaten up today. Then, he picked up the basin of water and slipped back into the house as quickly as possible.
In the evening, the people who had gone to the fields returned to the village. Smoke rose from the roofs of every house. The wooden door opened again. The boy held a chipped bowl filled with porridge and pickles that were so dirty that it was hard to tell how long they had been pickled. He moved to the side of the man who had not moved for the whole afternoon and said carefully, "Dad."
His father did not respond.
"Dad!"
The man still did not move. His stiff face was covered with ash.
Fear suddenly seized the boy's childish heart. "Dad, it's time to eat! … Father! Father! "
The bowl overturned with a clatter, and the porridge flowed to the ground, drowning the ants under the tree.
"Wake up, Father!" The little boy frantically pounced on the man and shook him, even though the body was already emitting a different kind of rotten smell. Hearing the sound, the neighbors pushed open their doors and poked their heads out. Whispers could be heard everywhere. The little boy screamed in panic, "Dad! Wake up and look at me! Father! I beg you, father!! "
"I beg you!! I beg you, Father!! "
The screams pierced through the village and gradually turned into howls, echoing under the grayish-green sky for a long time.
His memories turned into dust and scattered into the distance.
"… This boy has all hands and feet. Why hasn't he been taken away after three or four years?"
"Hold on, more than half of the village is smoking white flour. One died in this house, one died in that house, one died in that house, all of them died in that house …"
"Who knows if he's sick or not! I don't even dare to get close to him! "
…
The little boy sat on top of the low mud wall. The sun was setting behind him, gilding his hair and ears with a layer of golden light.
"Hey!"
He looked back, and a few stones were thrown at him, almost knocking him down. The group of children with snot dripped down their noses screamed, "Loser! Loser! "Then they ran away laughing.
The little boy remained silent as he rubbed his slender arm that was in pain.
The setting sun elongated his lonely figure, casting him into the barren fields with the wind and sand.
"Jiang Stops!" The impatient voice of the orphanage aunt came from afar, "Come here! Someone is looking for you! "
Not knowing what to think, the little boy's dim eyes suddenly brightened, and the bright light of hope suddenly glowed in his big black and white eyes. He jumped off the wall and ran like a madman. His little feet slapped the ground as he passed through the empty, slanted bungalow and the bumpy playground. The short distance seemed endless in his dream. Finally, the gate of the orphanage, which he had been so familiar with for more than a thousand days and nights, appeared in front of him. The little boy's black pupils gradually widened, and they shone with joy.
He saw it.
Just like he had imagined countless times in his dreams, there was a car parked outside the door that he had never seen before in his life. The car was shiny and sparkling, and his little friend was being led by an adult with his hands open with a smile on his face.
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