Along the way, people come and go, and there is a lot of traffic. But my parents weren't in the mood to look at that, so they just walked briskly towards the xx mall.

Before I got to the place, I just turned around a building, about a hundred meters away from the xx shopping mall, and saw an arched gate. There are a few big red letters written on it. Thousands of people were crowded under the gate, densely packed with people. The father was happy when he saw it, and stopped the mother from walking faster.

They made their way through the crowd to the first shop. The shop was a roller shutter. Outside the door, on the left and right sides of the board are placed long, large wooden planks filled with various socks. The counters around the door are also filled with socks. There were many snakeskin bags on the ground, and they were bulging inside.

It can be seen that this one is a wholesale socks. At the door, a dark, thin, and small middle-aged man stood there greeting customers.

My father wiped his hand on his face and walked over with his head. He took the drum rack from his mother's hand, carefully placed it, then took the drumstick and the steel plate from the snakeskin bag he carried, cleared his throat, and began to sing: "After passing through the puddle and the puddle, let's come to the first one; There are many stockings in this house, and everyone praises the socks in this house.

Children must laugh and laugh every day when they wear it, old people will be happy when they wear it, young men will chase after him, and beautiful girls will wear it, like icing on the cake."

When the father finished singing, he stood there waiting for the man to give the money. As if he hadn't heard, the man didn't seem to even lift his head. After waiting for about five minutes, my father was not convinced, so he beat the drum again and sang again. The man seemed to glance at my father out of the corner of his eye, still busy haggling with the customer.

My father struck the drum and sang again, and his voice was louder, and there was a hint of rebellion and anger in his voice. The man may have heard it, and finally raised his head, and a sharp and piercing voice came from that thin mouth: "What are you doing? What are you doing? Look at the two of you, you can lift and bite, begging here early in the morning, is there no shame?"

"We're not begging, we're doing the arts. "What is the difference between selling art and begging?" the man said, turning his face to the crowd and shouting, "Everyone come and see, these two people can kick and bite, they are in the prime of life, but they are begging here, obviously they are too lazy to eat." ”

When he shouted like this, everyone around me looked at my parents. The mall was already crowded, and it didn't take long for people to surround them. My father lowered his head and muttered, "If you don't give it, you won't give it, why are you so desperate?" At the same time, he began to curse in his heart: "People like you will definitely not have an eye for giving birth to a child." ”

I only heard the people around me start to discuss: "There are many people who pretend to be pitiful now." Of course, there were also good people in the crowd: "Don't talk about people like that, maybe they have a last resort." The people around gathered for a while, talked for a while, and then dispersed.

My parents walked out of the mall dejectedly, trying to walk back to the station the way they came. Walking on the road, my mother said to my father, "Your first martial arts are not good, is there any other way." ”

The father thought for a moment and said, "Take out the wooden comb and grate, and let's find a place to see if we can sell some and make some money." So the mother handed the father the bag with the wooden grate. The father said, "We've got to pick a good place!" and they moved on.

I saw a wide horizontal road on the side of the road, and some white floor tiles with red patterns were paved on it. The cross-section leads to an iron gate. The iron gate parted on both sides, like an open-minded mother.

Next to the gate is a small bungalow. Through the windowpane, a man in a security uniform can be seen inside. Looking through the iron gate, one can see a pond covered with pavilions. On one side of the pond is a dirt hill, and on the other side is a road, and on the left side of the road are some trees that cannot be said to be lifelike.

The trees were very different from the ones planted at home. The trees in the house are full of branches and leaves, but they only have a few large leaves, and the leaves are obliquely inserted into the air, like the pheasants that the king of the mountains inserts on both sides of his hat in the singing.

There are not people coming in at the door, and there are not people going out, so it can be seen that it is a lively place.

My parents didn't know what it was, so they brought out some wooden comb grates. They did not dare to put anything in the middle of the gate, but spread out a snakeskin bag and placed it in the open space to the left of the iron gate. My parents picked up two broken tiles from the side of the road and sat behind a wooden grate and waited for someone to buy them.

People in the park came and went, and pedestrians passed by one after another, but none of them would look at my parents, let alone buy a wooden comb grate.

Seeing that it was getting late, my father felt hungry again, so he said to his mother, "How many pancakes do you have left?" and "There are four or five." "I'm hungry again, take out two and I'll eat them." "Okay. Mother said, taking out the pancakes again. The fatherless devoured the two, but the mother refused to eat them.

Her father persuaded her, "You can eat one too." "I don't eat it. Mother said. "Are you hungry?" "Not hungry!" said the mother.

Then my mother asked my father if there was anything else he could do. My father said, "Don't worry. I used to hear storytellers talk about the endless way. You follow me and let's go around and see if there is any miracle?"

So, my parents put the wooden comb grate into a poem, my father took the wooden comb grate, drum rack, steel plate, and mother took the drum, walked out of the station, and walked towards a small alley

This book comes from reading books