Zhuang Lao Shi finally failed and took Mustard to the banquet. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 info Humble adults, ominous children, no one wants to share the table with this father and son. The steward stuffed some meat for Zhuang Lao Shi, and sent the father and son away early, which barely affected the festive atmosphere

For the humiliation, Zhuang Lao Shi has become numb. But the meat in his arms made him very happy. Hurry home with mustard in your arms and pick it up for your son to eat while it's hot. Mustard took one bite after another, eating very happily, Zhuang Lao Shi was full of sadness in his happiness, and he couldn't stop shedding tears.

A small hand touched Zhuang Lao Shi's rough face and wiped away his tears. Ahh Mustard's bright eyes, staring at her father, childish filial piety, are worth a thousand words. Zhuang Lao took the meat on the chopsticks into his mouth and laughed with tears.

The days passed in hardships and dullness. Mustard grew up in loneliness, had no playmates, and was mute, and in front of people, Mu Na was close to dementia. The biggest fun is to watch my dad weave straw mats and bamboo utensils. Gradually, three-year-olds began to imitate weaving.

It is rare that his son is interested, Zhuang Lao Shi specially prepared mat grass and fine bamboo strips for mustard, and took time to teach mustard weaving skills from time to time. Gradually, Mustard was able to make up some strange things, but none of them became vegetative. Zhuang Lao Shi didn't care, it was a toy, and his son was happy.

Taiping Town, soon there was another happy event. The only talent in the town, the old man. Before the full moon wine, I sent someone to ask Zhuang Lao Shi to make some bamboo utensils for the kitchen. Master Xiucai wants to use his own bamboo, even if he doesn't give a penny, it is a big face. What's more, they also sent half a bag of grains. Zhuang Lao Shi made it up very carefully, and he didn't ask how much, he took a burden and sent it to him.

Five-year-old Mustard flinched, followed her father and stepped into the academy. This is the most sacred place in Taiping Town. Usually don't talk about going in, even if you get close, you don't dare. said that it was a college, but in fact, it was a private school opened by an old Xiucai to enlighten the children of the rich and powerful families in the town.

Mustard is dumb, but not deaf. The sound of reading deeply attracted him, and he involuntarily walked outside the study to listen. The door of the study suddenly opened, and the children cheered and came out to rest, and they saw Mustard standing outside the house in a thin and stupid manner.

"Isn't this the bitch?" -- "That's him, dumb." "Why did he run in?" Beat him!" The children rushed up, pushing and teasing Mustard to have fun. Scared and helpless, she opened her mouth to let out a hoarse cry.

"Cough, cough" The majestic coughing sound sounded, and the schoolchildren dispersed in fright. Lao Xiucai appeared at the door of the study with a black face, staring at Mustard with disgust. Zhuang Lao Shi heard his son's cry, hurried over, and was just about to open his mouth to make amends. Lao Xiucai waved his sleeves, like catching mosquitoes and flies, and disdained to speak: "Despicable person, and you can hear it, take it away!" After speaking, he turned around and entered the house, and scolded angrily: "It's simply insulting and blasphemous to the sage." ”

The sound of reading made Mustard obsessed. Whenever Zhuang Lao Shi went out to work, Mustard always couldn't control herself, and ran around the academy to listen to the fairy sound. The emperor lived up to his wishes, and soon, Mustard found a drainage ditch from the academy that could be drilled into.

No one noticed that on a partition wall outside the classroom, there was often an auditor lying on his stomach. He listened attentively and was alert, and whenever the students were out of class, he quickly hid in the corner like a frightened mouse. Before school, he drilled out of the drainage ditch and quietly left.

But Mustard didn't know that there was a figure that always followed him from a distance. Zhuang Lao Shi discovered his son's abnormality early on, and after figuring out the reason, he couldn't bear to blame. When he was free, he secretly followed behind Mustard, ready to be beaten and scolded for his son at any time.

Time passes, children grow, and fathers age. Zhuang Lao Shi became ill from hard work, and he became more and more unable to work in the fields. At the age of eight, Mustard began to resist the burden of life. In the spring ploughing season, passers-by can always see an adult bent over his waist, like an old ox desperately pulling the plow. A child in the back, about the height of the plowshare, struggled to hold the plowshare, stumbling into the field.

In just over ten years, Zhuang Lao has been a strong man, as weak as an old man. The vision is vast, the hair is pale, the teeth are shaking, and the shape is like the wind and candles. Since the death of Mustard's mother, love parting, Zhuang Lao Shi has been heartbroken, and he has been sick with longing over the years. Coupled with overwork, I got up in the middle of the night to sleep five watches, which hurt my body a lot, and finally I couldn't afford to get sick.

When the poor are sick, how can they have the money to get medicine, they can only delay and boil. The only way you can think of is to go to the ditch, touch some fish and shrimp, and even set up a bamboo trap to catch voles, and boil soup for her father to drink to supplement nutrition. But these were useless, Zhuang Lao Shi was already terminally ill, and began to cough up blood, sometimes in so much pain that he couldn't hold back anymore, screaming and rolling.

Whenever this happens, Mustard has only the ability to hold her father's hand. You are sick, and I am bitter. It was you who brought me into this world. With your warm embrace, protect me. It was you, with your industrious hands, who raised me. I have suffered humiliation for me, but I have no regrets. I thought that if you accompany me to grow up slowly, I can accompany you and grow old slowly. Today, that has become a luxury.

Hate yourself for being powerless, hate yourself, and can't replace yourself. Looking at her father, who was gradually unconscious, Mustard burst into tears, opened her mouth wide, and with all her strength, shouted out an unclear word: Dad! Zhuang Lao Shi, suddenly smiled at the corner of his mouth.

Zhuang Lao Shi finally failed to survive the cold winter. Before he died, he was already tormented by illness and looked like a skeleton. Looking at Mustard, his eyes were full of reluctance, reluctance, and unwillingness. Bitter life, bitter life, bitter death. Like ants, like grass mustard, like being gently lifted and fallen by the wind, dust, leaving no trace.

Once, the flame of hope illuminated his miserable life. But it was ruthlessly extinguished by fate. If Zhuang Lao Shi was really guilty in his previous life, then in this life, he used his father's love to redeem it.

Mustard held her father's cold hand and guarded the body on the bed, motionless for a day and a night. Taiping Town is covered with snow, and in the early morning, people see Mustard silently walking into the town, marking a few words on the snow on the side of the street. Then he turned and knelt down with a straw mark on his head.

People gathered around, and literate people read out the words: Sell yourself and hide your father. "Zhuang Lao Shi is dead?" "How old are you, and you were killed by this son of a bitch." "Debt collector, don't go to town." "Who wants to buy this ominous man?" "It's better to get rid of it!" -- "Forget it, enough is enough." There was a lot of talk, but they didn't notice a startling detail. How can a miserable little mute write?