Just as a child uses his fingers to count and Mr. Accounts has an abacus and calculates, when the tool of pinching is changed from finger calculation to abacus through a workaround, the predictable time becomes unimaginably long, and Grandpa suddenly sees all the things he has experienced and will experience in this life, even the past life and the next life, he not only sees himself, but even sees everyone's life book like the judge of the underworld, who comes from where he wants to do what he will do, and where he will go.

He seemed to be standing on a surging river, watching the world hurriedly come to him, and hurriedly waved goodbye. He can take a leisurely walk along this crowded river, see the mountains of origin, and see the sea where he ends. Everyone is like a drop of water, crowded in it, at a loss, not knowing whether there is a whirlpool in front of them, whether it will hit a stone, or even splash up and fall on the thirsty soil and be absorbed.

And my grandfather looked at the turbulent river, and saw where there were roundabout corners, where there were torrents, where there were stones, where there were gentle, where there were rapids, where there were collisions, and where there were turns, they all saw it clearly, really. As a drop of water in a river, an individual cannot see these situations at all, and can only move forward or backward with the flow of fate. Although there are a very small number of people who can get out of a different life through their own efforts, most of them are still mediocre and mediocre, just showing a corner in the waves of life and immersed in the tide, and more people don't even have the opportunity to show a corner, and they are pushed by the waves of life into the final destination.

But he can see, not just a certain trend, but everything, everything he wants to see. Although he could see all this, he couldn't change anything, because he was just a spectator looking down on the world, not the master of this universe. The landscape was spectacular enough for him to marvel at, though.

In the manuscript, my grandfather described his feelings of discovery, and I believe that he was in a surging mood when he wrote these words, and his heart was struck with fear and excitement at the same time, and the brush in his hand also trembled, so that the ink of the brush he wrote was uneven, and he even accidentally threw the wolf soaked in ink on his body, staining his freshly washed clothes.

He wrote about his excitement in the manuscript, but he didn't write out the method of reckoning. He himself had been so confused by the sudden unfolding of the grand plan of the human world in front of him, and he didn't want his children and grandchildren to see it again.

He was nervous for a while, not knowing what to do. After he wrote down these feelings, he didn't eat a drop of water, and slept for two days and two nights without eating a grain of rice, and he wanted to calm down, but his heart rushed straight to his head.

Although grandpa's stepmother doesn't care about grandpa, she is still dedicated to her father. She was so anxious that she hurried to the village to find a barefoot doctor. The barefoot doctor came, took his pulse, touched his forehead, rolled his eyes, and stroked his ears, but he couldn't see any problems, but the problems were in front of him. The barefoot doctor said, I'm afraid there is no help, let's prepare for the future. When grandpa's stepmother heard this, her legs suddenly weakened, and she urgently asked what was wrong, whether it was food poisoning or a sudden outbreak. The barefoot doctor said, "I have been practicing medicine for decades, and I have never seen such a disease, and he should have an incurable disease."

Grandpa's stepmother rolled her eyes up and collapsed to the ground.

When my grandfather's manuscript was written here, it evoked my grandfather's memories. Grandpa said he remembered his father's two days and two nights in bed without eating or drinking, and he also remembered what the barefoot doctor said. At that time, my grandfather was still young, and I thought that I didn't have much time to honor my father, so I cut a bamboo and went to the reservoir to fish, wanting to let him taste it before my grandfather died.

In those days, it was also difficult to eat fish, because no one had anything to eat, and the water in the reservoirs, ponds and streams was sifted drop by drop, and it was quite difficult to catch a fish the size of a thumb.

Grandpa's idea was very simple, thinking that his grandfather couldn't eat millet mixed with bran and drink gruel, but he would definitely eat fish. Because at that time, the "more than every year" on the New Year's table were all fish made of wood, so once there was a real fish in front of him, my father would definitely eat very happily.

From the early morning to the twinkling stars, Grandpa's fishing rod did not move, and it was Grandpa himself who was in a commotion.

When the grandfather, who put away the fishing rod and returned dejectedly, walked to the door of the house, he heard the sound of the loud abacus "crackling" hitting the edge of the abacus, and his heart was shocked. He crept to his grandfather's room and peeked through the crack in the door.

The slightly haggard grandfather sat at the table in a gray patched tunic, fiddling with the abacus in one hand and jotting something on the rough-edged paper with the other. There were already a lot of lights on the wick, which seriously affected the brightness of the light, but my father didn't pay attention to it at all, and his mind was all on the abacus and the raw edge paper.

What is my father doing? I've never seen him count rice in the middle of the night. Besides, there was usually a supervisor present when the father was settling accounts. So, what is he doing at the moment?

This question has always been in Grandpa's heart, many times Grandpa thought that he was embezzling rice for his own use, but he quickly denied it, because Grandpa's personality is not like this. It wasn't until Grandpa saw Grandpa's manuscript that he knew that Grandpa was indeed selfish at that time. He didn't dare to divulge the secrets of heaven, but he cared about the fate of his children and grandchildren. Moreover, at that time, many families had many children to inherit the incense. And grandpa is grandpa's only child, and grandpa's biological mother died very early, and his stepmother is not much better to him. Although Grandpa's stepwife did not show that she hated Grandpa in front of Grandpa, Grandpa was very aware of Grandpa's situation. In his absence, the situation of his stepwife towards his son is different. And his grandfather is much older than his stepwife, so he is worried about the situation of his son after his death.

Even without these, what father doesn't care about his son's future?

So, the first thing that came to my father's mind was naturally my grandfather, so the first thing he calculated was his grandfather's fate. He calculated that his grandfather would meet a female pervert, of course, in addition to this, he also calculated many difficulties that his grandfather would encounter, but none of them could compare to the difficulty of female perverts. According to the calculation of the abacus, the grandfather will miss the matter of the female pervert, which will lead to the end of death. Grandpa's hands trembled, and the brush fell off between his fingers, staining a large piece of the rough-edged paper.

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