The old man always likes to recall the past, the truth is very right, the old man and the old lady talk, it is all old things, moldy, always have to be dried out.

There are many elderly people in the village who are over 70 years old, they are people who came over in a special period, after the famine in the 60s, and later the great social reform, and even some have experienced the Sino-Japanese War, the Civil War, and the Korean War.

They seem to be people who have been abandoned by society, they don't know how to use the Internet, they can't order takeout, they can't use electronic cash, they can't send couriers, they can't even make phone calls, they live very well, they are farmers, they have planted the land all their lives, they can't do without it, they can't leave that land, even if they leave, they have to come back sooner or later, this is them.

The older generation's concern for the land is not something I can understand, they are unwilling to leave the place where they were born and raised, they insist on taking care of vegetables and fruits, planting three acres and two points of land, mahjong and chess, and playing with grandchildren, their life is not monotonous.

But there are some people who have been abandoned by society on the left and right, and I don't know who has fiddled with their fate, which is so pitiful that it is hateful.

The old man is in his seventies, his daughter-in-law was bought, he died a few years ago, leaving him alone, honestly planting the land for a lifetime, no children and no daughters, how can he die a good death? He is lazy to do, he has never gone to school, he doesn't know a big word, and it takes half a day to calculate the account, so he has no ability, but the mouth can tell through the sky, children like to listen to stories, he can talk for a long time without stopping, from the gods in the sky, the little ghosts underground, he knows all the strange things in a radius of 100 miles, but if he really wants to speak in public, he can't say a word, especially for officials, whether it is a big official or a small official, even if it is a village head, he seems to be afraid of it, he is a farmer, remember his identity, since ancient times, the people do not fight with the officials, he is afraid。

After the death of his daughter-in-law, this man found another one, but the woman had some problems with her left and right brains, and she could sing and hum, which caused the people in the village to compete for a while, as if he thought it was very remarkable.

He also did a "big thing", he was old and couldn't plant the land, so he simply gave the land to his relatives, leaving more than one acre of land, and his relatives helped to plant. He put away the rags, but he didn't know how to settle the accounts, and he had to calculate them for a long time every time, but the villagers had time, and he listened to the stories while collecting the rags, and passed back what he heard. Every time he goes to the scrap yard to deliver goods, he asks people to open a bill, and every time he goes back to ask relatives and children to see if the account is right, this harvest is three years, he contracted all the rags in ten miles and eight townships, because his price is high, earn that hard-earned money, others are also willing to sell to him, and gradually other harvests of rags do not come to the nearby villages to collect, this place has become his territory.

But he is getting old, his legs and feet are gradually getting worse, at first he used a broken tricycle, and then he used the money he earned to buy an electric tricycle, hula to here, hula to that, life seems to have a new trick, but he can't bear to be old, his hair is gray, and his waist is bent.

Relatives helped him get a subsistence allowance, and the government poverty alleviation also found him, he got the government's money for the first time, and he was stupidly happy, he had no children and no daughters, he should have been, but he didn't get it until this time. When the government came, in fact, it was just the village chief and the leaders of the city, but in his opinion, the government came, and the government had to listen to what it said, otherwise he would go to jail, he was very afraid. The government looked at his home, and there were waste products everywhere, and asked him to rectify it, what could he do, it was all bought with money, but the government spoke, and he sold what he could sell, and burned the fire that could not be sold, but the government spoke again, burning garbage, polluting the environment, but what should I do?

Life has to go on, and the rags still have to be collected, and you can only collect a little and sell a little. He is old, but his voice is very loud, he is used to scolding the woman with mental problems, because she does not work hard, eats every day, but does not work, how can there be such a reason, he raised her for nothing, but there is one thing he can't deny, he can shout at her, say anything, the woman only cares about humming a song, who called her mentally problematic.

As he gets old, his body is getting weaker and weaker, and he still has to collect waste every day, which is his business, and he supports himself by earning money on his own. But he is reluctant to spend money, he rarely buys clothes, they are all picked up in the tattered pile, those good clothes, he looks at it, he can wear them if they are properly washed, people in their seventies and eighties never pay attention to it, but he also has a decent clothes, which he only wears when he goes to eat the red and white things that he has to go. He doesn't participate in other people's weddings and funerals in the village, because he has no children and no money to go, it's all a loss-making business, and it follows his mood whether he goes or not. But his relatives are going, he is very traditional, even if he doesn't go to the money, he has to take it, if he goes, he will clean himself up, you will never see that he is a rags, find a shaver to shave his beard, shave his hair, wash it cleanly, wear that set of white shirts that I don't know when I bought, suit pants, very old-fashioned, but it suits him.

I don't know if he thought about it later, he was old, sick, I don't know when he went, he didn't have money for treatment, and he didn't want to go to the hospital, every time he got sick, it was like death coming, he was depressed, his face was gloomy, he had experienced life and death, his previous daughter-in-law had been with him for half his life, but he could only watch her die little by little, and he couldn't even give her something better. He must have thought that he would die, he might have been saving up a coffin book for himself, how long would he live, and he would be grateful for the arrival of every dawn.

The old man, with his mouth open, tells endless stories, which is what he likes to do most besides collecting rags.

Is it pitiful?