His father ran panting and hugged me, hurriedly asked: "I have to live with your company, right?"

I nodded energetically, sob unceasingly. Father laughed, like to discover the truth the ground says: "what I can't die, I'll live with you." Finish saying and then ignore regardless of ground holding me back home.

Along the way he sense of excitement compared with my tears. I'm 13 years old, his father 43. This is a memory of the bear in mind forever in my life..

The father finally didn't pick up that car back. He no longer went to town, in the four round, the grass who help to pull out, what live will help stem. But the daily Le hehe. Later, my father followed a migrant group in the village to catch the odd jobs. He only threw bricks, from the real bottom into the room, exactly throw masons hand, faster, temporarily don't stop. His arm swelling up, I'll come back with a hot towel apply to him every day, but not very useful, then learning housework a busy, also gave up. Sometimes wake up in the night and moaning in his dream, heart a shake shake shake pain, tears in his face also dare not to cry. Father is very hard, and there is no concept of money, give as much, but others don't bear to deceive him �IJ��ӱ����� Ħ�����m�Ĉԏ� ��������b�c���� С�ݳɅ����� To cope with runaway gridlock.