I saw that our house was small and crumbling, and the old rotten wheat straw was scattered, as if it would fall down with a push. I didn't dare to reach out and try it at all, I was so worried. Looking at the sky it was very low and there was a large group of ants crawling around hungry. I asked my father, "Lord, will our house fall down?" My father said, "How? You are like the grandfather of a stone mountain, and it did not fall down."

Yes, like the grandfather of Stone Mountain, he fell, but not even the hut.

We call our father grandpa and grandfather grandpa. Grandpa died the day before yesterday. Grandpa was hanged. Just behind the door of the hut, a piece of wood was used, less than one. Grandpa had no warning before he died, he didn't say a word, he didn't say I was going to die, I was going to hang. Grandpa said nothing. So none of us thought he would die. Before Grandpa died, he received two packs of snacks and a pack of Northeast rice from my aunt from Northeast China.

Aunt Mai was Grandpa's younger sister, and her name was Mai. When Aunt Mai was fourteen years old, she had been in the army in the village, so she followed him. If she didn't , she would starve to death anyway. Aunt Mai joined the army and moved to the north and south, never came back, wasn't injured, and did not die. She lived to build a country, followed the chief commander, and was sent by the state to be an official in the northeast. Aunt Mai was the only full-time cadre from Grandpa's family, and she was considered a high-ranking official. Aunt Mai sends snacks and rice twice a year.

Grandpa was so hungry that he couldn't stand it. I was so hungry that I cried too. My mother and father were so hungry that they were looking for bark, and my uncle, who was a bachelor, was so hungry that he was looking for bark. My father and mother found elm bark, and my uncle found mulberry bark. Grandpa looked at the snacks and rice sent by Aunt Mai, and his fingers were shaking like raindrops. I thought Grandpa would cry. Grandpa didn't cry. Grandpa gave us a distraction. Grandpa said that he would not eat bark for this meal. Grandpa ordered me to put the rice in the pot. The pot was broken, but it could still hold some rice. In fact, there are no pots in every family. In fact, there are no good pots in every family. Our pot can still hold some rice. Grandpa looked at Mi and Chai, let out a long sigh, and whispered something that no one else noticed. Grandpa said, "My mouth is more open." No one paid attention, and no one thought much. We had been carried away by the snacks and rice sent by Aunt Mai twice a year for several years. I noticed what Grandpa said, but I didn't think much of it either.

After we finished eating snacks and rice together, Grandpa stood in the moon field in the yard, where a jujube tree was alone and the moon was alone. Grandpa looked at the lonely moon, caressed my head, and said to me in a low, yearning voice, "Grandson, look, a big white horse has come, and it is God who sent Grandpa Tuo!"

Grandpa pointed to the door. Our fence door was short and broken. Nothing, nothing would come in. Only twice a year, when Aunt Mak's mail arrived, the mail carrier in green would ring his "defense" bicycle bell desperately outside the fence door. It was our only big day.

According to how poor we are, I can be absolutely sure that the big white horse will not come in, let alone be sent to carry grandpa, because grandpa is a poor little person, a jingle poor man, poorer than anyone in the whole village. The poor don't have to be so grand.

I followed my grandfather's fingers and looked out the door for a long time. There were only desolate streets, only fences and walls covered with cold grass, and there were really no white horses. I said honestly, "Grandpa, there are no white horses!" Grandpa actually stroked my head and smiled when he heard that. Grandpa seemed to smile and sighed, saying, "You fart child, you don't understand anything!" I was about to refute Grandpa that I am not a fart child, but Grandpa suddenly squatted down very low, wrapped me in two thick old hands, and told me solemnly, "Tell your grandfather, you must not write to your Aunt Mai, and at any time, you must not write anything. If you write, Grandpa will die in peace." I don't understand. I asked why. Grandpa looked at the sky, then at the sky, and Grandpa seemed to look at the lonely moon, and seemed to look at the lonely jujube tree that was poor and skinny like a human being. I felt like Grandpa was crying, but he didn't seem to be crying. Grandpa looked at it for a long time, and the old palm touched my face and said to himself, "Why? Why? Because we are poor children!"

I still don't understand. I was eight years old and didn't go to school. I stubbornly asked, "Why can't we write to Aunt Mai when we are poor?" Grandpa patted me. "Good grandson, there is no reason. Anyway, remember not to let your grandfather write to you, just say it was Grandpa who said it."

I still didn't quite understand, but I just nodded. So Grandpa died. While I was playing, we weren't paying attention. Grandpa hung himself from a piece of wood behind the door of the hut. After Grandpa died, my father wanted to write a letter to Aunt Mai to report the funeral, so I told my grandfather's words. I didn't know it was Grandpa's last words, but anyway, my father was going to the "literacy class" in the village to write a letter, so I told my father not to write it. Grandpa said he must not write it, and he died after writing it.

So my father did not continue to insist on writing letters, nor did he mention any more letters. My father sat by the dark stove for a long time without saying a word. I felt as if my father was crying, and it seemed as if he was not crying.

Because I didn't report the funeral to Aunt Mai, Aunt Mai never knew that my grandfather and her brother had actually died long ago, and Aunt Mai's dim sum and rice were still sent home on time twice a year. Because of these two packs of dim sum and rice, the Second Uncle finally talked about his daughter-in-law, though she was a yellow and thin widow; because of these two packs of dim sum and rice, my sister was starving to death and alive again. These are two packs of dim sum and rice that the whole village is envious of!

We hope that the sun and the moon will go on like this, that the heat and envy in our eyes, that the two packs of snacks and rice will not end. Although there are not many things, they are very helpful to us, like the lights in the dark that can make us see the light. No way, maybe Grandpa is right, because we are poor.

In the fifth year, however, it was all over. In the fifth year, Aunt Mai suddenly came to visit relatives. Aunt Mai and her aunt and grandfather came by car, and they entered the village very sensationally. Of course, she did not know that her brother, my grandfather, had been dead for five years, and he had not died normally, but by hanging himself.

My father never went out, nor did he go out to welcome the arrival of Aunt Mai. My father didn't go out the day before he knew that Aunt Mai was coming to visit relatives. My father had been kneeling in the dark inner hut in front of Grandpa's old black tablet. Grandpa had been buried in the ground for five years. Our days went on. I suddenly felt so pitiful for my father. I felt as if my father was crying, and as if he wasn't crying.

After that, things were simple. Aunt Mai found out that her brother, my grandfather, had been dead for many years, and she also knew how he died. In fact, I think my father could lie and say that my grandfather died of illness or starvation, or that my grandfather couldn't think of it because he wanted to save someone's food. There is no way, who made us poor! But not only did my father not say things well, but he also said that he was unfilial, and that my grandfather couldn't bear the hunger and hanged himself to death.

I stood on the doorstep between the inner room and the hall, watching Aunt Mai go berserk. Aunt Mai looked at her grandfather's tablet and burst into tears. Aunt Mai waved her big hand like a man, and the big hand that had held a gun and a big knife to kill devils and enemies suddenly covered my father's face. The father's face was full of tears. The slap made an amazing noise.

Auntie Mai walked away without saying a word or eating, despite the fact that her mother had already fried two precious eggs in a bowl. Auntie Mai and her aunt and grandpa launched their green military wagon, which made a rumbling sound and brought up large tracts of dust. There was no water, no food, and not a single bird was seen flying in the sky. I saw people in our village flying out like bald-winged birds, and one neighbor even tried to stop Auntie Mai's car. We are all poor people! They are all shouting for their father, they are all shouting for their father, you can't just go like this!

But Aunt May ignored him and left.

We all know the result. We all know that Aunt Mai, a good relative, will never visit the door again in her lifetime, and will never return to her hometown. We know that the two packs of snacks and rice will never appear again, and the mailman in green will never hear the "National Defense" brand bicycle bell again.

Finally, behind me, I heard my father shout Aunt Mai in shock, and I heard my father choke loudly: "Auntie, take the small bowl to school!"

The small bowl is my name.