grandfather's daughter-in-law

The setting sun in midsummer sinks blood-red on the edge of the mirror-like sea. It is orange-red and orange-red, and under the reflection of the sparkling river, it has a somewhat golden and vast expanse of atmosphere.

The river with a peculiar smell all the year round, under the cover of the setting sun, the surface of the river seems to be dancing with thousands of golden lights.Floating on the surface of the river are dead fish and dogs with bulging stomachs and exposed white teeth, who seem to be dying. After being sprinkled with gold dots, they seem to have a smile and come alive, and the smell doesn't seem to be so bad.It was many years later that I realized that this river had a name, it was called Danshui River.The road that goes around the village along the bend of the river also has a name, it seems to be called Parking Highway.It is said that many children have been killed by cars passing by on the road, and they have been warned by adults not to approach.There is a forest between the Tamsui River and the road, and every tree grows luxuriantly as if it had put in all its strength.There are egrets perched in the bushes, which look like white flowers blooming on the bright blue water from a distance.

Under the afterglow of the setting sun, which is less pungent, I sat on the river bank against the light, all in gold, and looked at a large plain made of rubbish on the other side of the river bank.There were many children rummaging through the trash, picking and digging for treasures.Sometimes they would cheer for joy when they just found a piece of discarded rubber. If they found one or two pieces of scrap steel, it would be terrible. Iron Steel walked proudly in front, followed by a group of followers. He exchanged one or two dollars at the broken recycling station at the entrance of the village, and then went to the small grocery store in the west of the village for one or two dollars for food. Enjoying food in the middle of the night is simply a great achievement in life.Of course, most of the time they couldn't find anything, and they would get all dirty and smelly, and they would inevitably be caned by their mother when they got home, but they still enjoyed it.After reading the treasures, if the sun has not set, they will go to the field in groups, some with old teapots and some with chopsticks, trying to catch some unresponsive little crabs in the riddled field. Come fishing for egrets.

I always sit far away on the river bank and watch them quietly.I disdain to join them, and in their eyes, I do not belong to their category, so no one has ever invited me to be with them.At that time, I seemed to be living in a world parallel to the normal life in the eyes of ordinary people.Maybe when we don't understand anything, fate has already been arranged in this way, and we just follow its track step by step. As for who spurned whom, what does it matter?

My name is Ji Mingfeng, and I was born in a small rural town called Belai in Taipei.

My father was a military officer of the Kuomintang.In my increasingly thin memory, he has a sharp-edged face, very short hair, transparent ears and a clean and tidy chin.He had a nice smile—the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a crescent moon—but he didn't smile very often.He likes everything neat and orderly. In the words of modern people, it may be obsessive-compulsive disorder.There is a big study room at home, and every book on the bookcase is placed by him himself.I spent almost my entire teenage years there after he left.He also liked fishing, and with a long fishing rod, he could sit for a day on the bank of the freshwater river under the scorching sun and the stench.I once heard those gossiping women in the village say that those who like fishing are capable of great things, because the patience of waiting for a day in such a harsh environment is not something ordinary people have, so my father told all the women in the village In his eyes, he is a person who can do great things.Because of him, we lived a life of superiority in that obscure town.At that time I was proud of him, and I thought I would become a person like him in the future.

As the dusk fades, my mother will go out to look for me if she doesn't see me going back.She called me in a soft voice, and I would stand up and dust off my beautiful dress, and go home with her.About my mother, too, was a rather talked-about woman in town, though I prefer to believe that the talk was purely jealous.Because she is a very gentle woman in my eyes, gentle and simple, noble and beautiful.She is well-bred, rarely speaks loudly, almost never loses her temper, never wears open-toed sandals in front of people, let alone go out with slippers like those women in the town.Perhaps because of the superior living conditions, her skin is very good, rosy, tender and delicate.In short, in my heart at that time, my father was a hero, my mother was a perfect woman, and they were a match made in heaven.

This is something that the children in the village cannot envy.Their father always had yellow teeth, and their mother always wore baggy shorts and sandals, so they inherited the legacy of being scruffy and foul-mouthed.Chapo's boy might be better, but Cha's boy is not.Before they came back from the river, their mother had already prepared the cane and waited, slapping and cursing, "Never seen such a wild kid! It doesn't look like a Cha-boy! Out of the box Kid!" The gnashing of teeth will make you think that there is some blood feud between them.At that time, I knew that the tragedy of life will be inherited.

If I had to find a flaw in my life before I was ten years old, it might be the relationship between my father and mother.It's not that they are unloving, it's just that sometimes there are some accidents.At that time, my father's work often required entertainment, and he would come home in the middle of the night drunk every time, and vomited in a mess as soon as he got home.The rotten vegetables and leaves were mixed with wine and meat, exuding the same stench as that freshwater river.Mother always complained, but he always ignored it, and it would happen again next time.He has a high-sounding reason-he is maintaining our livelihood, and every penny we spend on food and clothing is his hard work, a drop of blood and a drop of sweat.That's true, but the funny thing is, we never know what he does.The worst disturbance in my memory was probably the one when my father didn't come home at night.His mother sat in the living room and waited for him all night, and he didn't come back until the next evening. He was not drunk and was very sober, but he didn't tell his mother what he did.He just threw his clothes on the sofa abnormally and fell asleep.Mother found a photo in his pocket.She was dazed for a while, then jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, clamoring for her father to confess the woman in the photo.The father snatched the photo in displeasure, but accidentally tore it in half.Then there was a clear and crisp clap on my mother's face, and I was so scared that I forgot to cry.

That was the first time my father beat someone, and my mother was hysterical for the first time.Probably because of the deep love and responsibility, no matter what kind of changes happened to our life after that, no one had such an explosion again.I hid at the stairs, watching my father beat my mother with fists to protect the woman in the photo, watching my mother being beaten by my father until the corner of her mouth was bleeding and her face was bruised but she still refused to let go. Who would know that in the eyes of others, a match made in heaven What will happen to the two of you behind each other?

After that, they did not speak for a long time.I don't know how they reconciled, but when my father came home drunk, my mother would still serve him, wash his vomited clothes and hang them neatly in the closet.My father loved me more as if he was afraid that there would be no chance in the future. At that time, all kinds of rare snacks, such as beef jerky and preserved fruits, were often piled up at home.At that time, I didn't understand the relationship between men and women and the impermanence of the world. I only knew that they loved me and treated me well, so I accepted it with peace of mind.And these mountains of snacks serve only one purpose—to cement my standing among that group of kids and a slew of compliments.Of course, I will not deliberately try to please them, but these meals will make them willingly hold me in a superior position.It's very strange to say, I don't have any of the usual children's usual problems, such as being greedy and playful.I seem to be mentally undeveloped yet exceptionally clear-sighted. I watched a group of people willingly bow their knees in order to eat a bite, and enjoyed the inexplicable pain in my heart.

Perhaps, this is the inferiority of human beings.