Soon the room was lit with oil lamps, which barely dispelled the slightest bit of cold and darkness. The man and the woman sat opposite each other on the kang, and on the table were leftover porridge and a small plate of pickles that the woman had pickled herself, and two mouthfuls of steamed buns that had not been eaten.

The old dog died on a winter night two years ago, and when he died, the old dog kept barking. No matter how the man scolded, the old dog never gave up. In the end, the man really had no choice but to sigh heavily, stay by the old dog's side, and accompany him to the last journey of his life.

In the last moments of his life, tears flowed from the eyes of the old dog. Looking at the old dog beside him, the man could only keep stroking the old dog's back, which was no longer soft, and said comfortingly.

"Old man, I know you're thinking about the little one. But he can't come back outside, so you must not blame him! The little guy is mixing well outside now, and a few days ago he even asked someone to bring a message back, saying that he was talking to someone!"

As the man narrated, the old dog finally stopped barking and gradually closed his eyes. It's just that those eyes never opened again, and until the last moment of his life, the old dog was still worried about everything about the little master.

...

I looked at the scene in front of me, and I couldn't stop crying in the corners of my eyes. The softness hidden deep in my heart was deeply touched at this time. After all, family affection is the most difficult thing in life, and no one can give up the feelings that blood is thicker than water.

Spring goes to autumn, and time always slips away unconsciously.

The former boy Lang has now become a middle-aged uncle, and next to him is a seven or eight-year-old daughter, who was born to him and the girl in the city.

After so many years of marriage, the middle-aged uncle seems to have gradually forgotten his parents in the mountains. Although I always think about it during the New Year's holidays, and occasionally go back to see it, but after all, it is not as close as when I was a child. Until one day, the elderly father suddenly appeared at the door of the house, which frightened the middle-aged uncle, who had reached middle age, because he faintly felt that something bad would happen.

Sure enough, the elderly father took out a piece of white cloth from his pocket and handed it to the middle-aged uncle, and the middle-aged uncle was suddenly stunned when he saw the white cloth, and then tears couldn't stop flowing out. The daughter who was still ignorant next to her pulled the corner of the middle-aged uncle's clothes, and looked at some familiar but somewhat strange old people outside the door with some fear.

The woman in the house heard the crying outside, and couldn't help but walk out the door curiously. When she saw that the old man standing at the door was the man's father, the woman subconsciously frowned, and then put on a "hypocritical" smile and beckoned the old man to come into the house and drink tea.

But the old man didn't pay attention to the woman, but looked at the middle-aged man who was crying in front of him, dropped a sentence and turned away.

"Son, take the time to go back and take a look at your mother, you are the only one who talks about when she leaves!"

When the woman in the house heard the old man's words, the expression on her face suddenly became extremely exciting. But in the next second, the woman began to pack her luggage very sensibly, and hurried back to her hometown in the mountains with her daughter and man that afternoon.

The hometown in the mountains is no longer the same as the memory of childhood, and it seems to be more desolate at this time. Strips of white cloth were tied to the doorframe, and the woman's body was parked outside in the cowshed, covered with a white cloth.

"Mother..."

The middle-aged man cried and pounced on the already cold corpse, but unfortunately no matter how he roared, the woman was gone after all.

She gave him the love of the whole world, and she didn't want to disturb him easily even when she was gone. If it hadn't been for the last man telling him on his own initiative, maybe he wouldn't even have seen her for the last time.

...

"Hey... The son of unfilial piety, when people are alive, they don't know how often to come back to see, and now that people are dead and crying here, what are you pretending to be?"

I roared angrily, as if the person lying there had a very close relationship with me. At this time, I can't wait to beat the middle-aged man violently, so as to relieve my anger.

The picture turns again, and in the third autumn after the woman leaves, the man also leaves this world. When he left, he only wished he could be buried with the woman, right at the foot of this mountain. This mountain has nurtured him all his life, and it holds all his memories here. There's laughter and there's sadness.

He was born here, grew up here, married and had children here, and lived here for the rest of his life. The mountains gave him life, and now he is going to return to the mountains.

At some point, there was an additional grave at the foot of the mountain. There is no handwriting on the inscription on the tomb, and I don't know if it is the erosion of time or if it is a wordless tablet.

The place where the middle-aged man was born has also been broken, and it seems that in a few years it will be completely forgotten.

Since the man left, the middle-aged man has never returned to this sad place. Perhaps this land once brought him endless joy, but now his memory is only sadness and sighs.

It's a pity that that person can't come back, and all that can be left is memories and sighs.

This year's late autumn is particularly cold, and the middle-aged man has already entered the age of sixtieth. The legs and feet are no longer very convenient, and even walking needs to rely on a cane. The daughter married in a foreign country, and the daughter-in-law around her also left the world early due to illness.

Suddenly, the old man seemed to experience the sadness and helplessness of that morning many years ago, when he pushed the door open, and his elderly father stood alone in the doorway, and took a white cloth from his pocket and handed it to himself.

In life, there are always points and combinations. But the more people come to the end of their lives, the more likely they are to be nostalgic and nostalgic. The old man began to miss the life in the mountains, the care of his parents, the old dog who was tricked by himself, and everything that had been.

And all this used to be so disgusting in his mind, he was afraid that people would ask about his birth, he was afraid to tell others about his parents' occupations, and even because he was afraid, he tried not to go home as much as possible.

Now he is really homesick, he thinks about the old dog who is greedy and lazy, he wants to sit at the door and embroider flowers, and he thinks about his father who can always bring back all kinds of delicious food.

It's a pity that all this can only exist in memory, buried deep in my heart by myself, and no one will be allowed to see it. It's just that in the dead of night, I take it out alone and secretly feel sad!

He didn't survive that fall, just as the leaves on a tree didn't hang on the treetops in the cold wind. When he left this world, he didn't have many relatives around him, only a daughter who had been raised for twenty years, and a son-in-law who was not too close.