Half a month later, my father left the hospital after surgery.

His mother cleaned the dining room on the first floor and made it his new hospital bed. His eyes stared at the ceiling in a daze, wandering in a fantasy world.

One night there was thunder and lightning and heavy rain. I tossed and turned in nightmares, and the dense rain outside the window seemed to push the world to the precipice.

In the evening, I went downstairs to the bathroom and saw a dark figure crouching under the kitchen cabinet.

I thought there was a thief, but it was my father when I turned on the light. Looking for a bottle of wine, a bottle of wine that I had hidden before I was born. I thought he would never be able to move again.

"I don't have much to live" was discovered by me, and he quibbled but pretended to be calm. He staggered back to the sickbed, emaciated as a dead branch.

I rushed over to help, and there was a rotting smell on him. I got him a plastic wine glass, and he said he wanted a glass glass. The one given to him by his uncle was carved with fine green jade, and he was always reluctant to use it. Said to be a family heirloom. After taking a sip of wine, the two dead eyes suddenly lit up.

He smiled, like a spring flower.

"You drink less, the doctor said it's not good for the condition. I admonished him.

"Did the doctor tell you that I don't have much to live?"

"Perhaps—there is hope"

"Hope is in you," he looked at me, "be yourself, and don't think about the dying." ”

He drank wine, never in small gulps, and always exhaled through his nose when he was done. He is an artist, and he is naturally different from mortals.

"Your dad and I, I didn't drink alcohol before" After a sip of wine, he came back to life.

I looked at him suspiciously, thinking that I had taken a sip of wine and started babbling again.

"Do you know why I love to drink?"

I shook my head and thought to myself, my father loves to drink as much as Zijun loves to eat bean sprouts. It may be a kind of sustenance, or it may just feel right.

"I have practiced your willow leaf swordsmanship, and I learned it from your grandfather," the father poured a glass of wine with a trembling hand, "When I was nineteen years old, I had a fight with someone for your mother, and after I came back, my dantian has been hurting, and it hurts for more than a week, as if it was broken by someone." I tried many ways to no avail, and finally I drank 60 degrees of shochu to ease up. ”

He raised his glass as he spoke.

My mother was very good-looking when she was young, my grandfather was a martial arts gym and was very famous in the town, and my uncle was the director, so I never understood why my mother fell in love with my father, a drunk. Now that I think about it, it should be that the willow leaf swordsmanship is enough to make him famous at a young age.

"Does it still hurt?" I asked

"It hurts every day, so wine is a good thing, how can people not drink alcohol, after drinking, the troubles are gone, and the dantian doesn't hurt anymore. He smiled brightly.

Finally, the wine ran out. He let out a long sigh. The eyes instantly became dull. I asked him if he wanted to drink, and he didn't answer. Like a big tree, it slowly fell down on his sickbed. The next morning, his mother came to wipe his body as usual, and it was already cold and hard to the touch.

My father just left us.

People say that the old dragon clock is probably what my grandmother looks like now. I can look at the wall for a day, and I don't talk or sleep. She is only 64 years old, which is not old.

She and I sat in a chair in front of the door, and the wind was extremely soft that day, and the pumpkin vines were crawling all over the bamboo trellises. I'm going to school tomorrow and I want to talk to her. But Grandma always sat motionless, like a stone statue that had been sitting there in the first place.

"When are you going to school?" was already past three o'clock in the afternoon before he said his first sentence.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow will go" I was a little excited.

"If you study well, you don't have to farm, and you don't have to fight and kill. ”

"Farming is also very good, after reading the book, you still have to fight and kill. "I want to graduate, maybe to join the army.

"Don't fight and kill, you see what has become of it," I understood what she said. Fighting, killing, and killing made her husband dead, and now her eldest son is dead again. Fighting, killing, killing is like her curse.

I regret that I said the wrong thing and touched on my grandmother's sore spots. Somehow there was silence. Grandma became a stone statue again, and her snow-white hair trembled and fluttered.

She suddenly asked me, "I've used the Willow Leaf Sword Technique a few times recently." ”

"Twice, what's wrong with grandma. ”

"Don't use that thing, your grandfather killed you, and now your father is dead. ”

She used "things" to call Liu Ye swordsmanship, and her eyes were full of hatred.

I remembered my father's words last night, and looked at the ants under my feet in a daze.

"There is a devil in that sword technique, and it is hidden in people. You feed it a mouthful of food once you use it, and when it grows up, it eats its owner in turn, and your grandfather eats it to death. Grandma's brows were tightly knit, and she still wrinkled for a long time until the end of the sentence, as if she had a lock that could not be opened.

I couldn't help but touch the willow leaf sword on my waist, I thought that one day I might die at its hands, but what I was more afraid of was dying at the hands of Lu Lu Wu.

She finished the above sentence at three o'clock, and then remembered it at four o'clock, and said the following sentence.

"But this is also fate, the fate of your family. I can't live long, and I can't even pass the fifty level. ”

When my grandfather died, I was young. Death is nothing more than a table of wine on which mourners sit around to eat and drink, and say goodbye to their cheeks when they are full of wine and food. Death is just a small coffin, put the grandfather in it, bury it in the soil, and the family cries around it. And then it's still eating and drinking.

However, the death of the father. I learned that a person can disappear forever. The living do not want him to go, and the dead still want to stay in the world. Death mercilessly separates the living from the dead. Separated without mercy. Even if you use all your strength and are exhausted, the dead will never live.

From that day on, I realized that there is an end to life.