The Taste

On the village road, Grandma Xiao Chun's front door was open, with lamplight spilling out.

After sunset, a faint glow still lingered in the sky. An old man carrying a basket on his back slowly walked past. He lived in the row of old houses.

Curious, the old man peered through the open door. He saw the crowd inside, and he also saw Grandma Xiao Chun's rosy complexion. He froze.

Most elderly people knew their own fate. The closer they came to that point, the clearer everything became.

"Old Niu, you're back from fishing?" Grandma Xiao Chun walked to the door and smiled at the old man carrying the basket.

"Ah, Sister Chun, how are you..." Old Niu seemed to realize something.

Grandma Xiao Chun smiled. "Come in and have a simple meal. You live alone, so you won't have to go back and cook for yourself. Come, come."

Looking at Grandma Xiao Chun, Old Niu silently nodded. He stepped over the threshold and saw, face-to-face, all the people of various ages in the living room.

Was he sad? Old Niu himself was quite sad. As people grew old, one after another, those they had known, laughed with, quarreled with, worked in the fields with, and made rice cakes with would eventually leave.

Perhaps he would be next.

Thus, looking at the descendants of Xiao Chun who were forcing themselves to smile despite how awful those smiles looked, Old Niu said, "Then this rotten old man will have a simple meal, all right? Come, Luo Shan, Luo Ming, bring out some strong liquor."

"Uncle Niu, sit here." Luo Shan hurriedly made room and ushered Old Niu into his seat.

Grandma Xiao Chun had already taken a bottle of liquor from the living-room cabinet. Smiling, she said, "Old Niu, drink more.