introduction

A long, long time ago, on a bloody dusk, my grandfather's grandfather lay on a simple bunk of wheat straw, looked at the increasingly blurred outside world through the countless gaps in the beams, and swallowed his last breath. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 infoThe last words that his old man left to his son were: Cultivate immortals, take revenge!

Many, many years later, one snowy night, in a windy hut on all sides, my grandfather's father lay on a broken mat and left the same last words to his ragged and dishclothed son next to him. And then just as dead as his dad.

Grandpa was only eight years old at the time. In his early memory, he has been wandering around with his father. There is no fixed place to live and there is no food to eat. He remembered that he had followed his father to many very high mountains, looked for many, many people, and knelt down in front of countless mountain gates, and at most he got a few dry rations and a sigh. And my father's master took me in over and over again, but I never got a response to my request to learn the Tao and cultivate immortals.

He often heard people call his father crazy, and some people called him a fool. Although he knew that his father was indeed a bit crazy and stupid, he still couldn't accept others insulting his father like this. So he often fights with people, or rather, he is often beaten by others. He was already young, and his malnutrition made him much shorter than his peers, so every time he clashed with someone, it ended with him being knocked to the ground and stepping on one foot.

He had become accustomed to this life: wandering, not having enough to eat, not being warmly clothed, being beaten. He even felt that this was his life, a normal life. He didn't feel bitter, because he had never tasted sweetness. There is no pain without contrast, so his childhood is quite happy. I followed my dad around and saw all kinds of scenery and all kinds of people. I've eaten all kinds of strange foods and experienced all kinds of inexplicable things. He thought his life would go on like this, but his father died suddenly.

He doesn't like the Northeast, it's cold and scary! When I was in the south with my father, I could spend the winter with anything, but in the northeast, the snot that flowed out could freeze on my lips, and it would freeze into ice before I could finish peeing. This made my father, who was already sick and crooked, fall ill all of a sudden. In this old forest in the northeast, there is no medical treatment and no medicine (in fact, there is no medicine and they have no money), and there is no house that can shelter from the wind and snow, only a shack that has been abandoned for I don't know how many years is ventilated, and there is not even a mouthful of hot food. In this way, Dad survived for two days, and finally left him and left. Looking at his father's body that was quickly frozen and his eyes widened, he was scared!

He threw himself on his father's body and cried, shaking his father desperately, hoping that he would wake up. But the only answers to him were the north wind calling outside, and the faint howl of wolves in the distance.

Fate is strange and wonderful. Later, when my grandfather told me about his glorious history, he said that he thought he was dying, and that he was an eight-year-old child, who had no food, drink, or clothing, guarding a corpse and was surrounded by wild beasts. No matter how you look at it, there is no silver lining. But grandpa actually survived, and it was precisely because grandpa miraculously survived that there was my dad and me, our family of gods and grandchildren for three generations!