The old man on the boat, who placed the oar into the river and stood up, picked a bowl full of mulberries in no time and then handed them to me.
I merrily gobbled up the mulberries, making the corners of my mouth a dark purple and staining my clothes with mulberry juice, then I lay down at the stern of the wupeng boat and slept soundly...
My memories of Grandpa began when I was seven.
Before that, I had never seen him.
During the summer of that year when I was seven, Mom and Dad unexpectedly took me to the countryside, where I met Grandpa. His face was as dark and wrinkled as tree bark, and he was very thin. I didn't call him Grandpa when we first met.
After they took me there, Mom and Dad left, leaving me alone in the countryside.
I was very scared of him and didn't understand why my parents had abandoned me, so I cried many times. The only thing that felt kind to me in the countryside was a hen that, like me, sat alone in a corner, not mingling with the other chickens.