"What? My grave?! You!..."
On the little hill in summer, the sunlight shone warm, heating a person through from head to toe. And the three small mounds of earth and pits were like homes dug out with care by Mexico Agile Foxes. Looking closely, the pits faced south and the dirt piles lay to the north, considerately "sitting north and facing south." And on those mounds, three abstract little figures had even been drawn, faintly resembling two adults and one child...
Old Militia Chiwako was struck dumb, his eyelids twitching wildly, the corner of his mouth spasming. He looked at the "treasured feng shui land" Chipawa had chosen, looked at the little figure that represented him, then turned to look at his son's sincere face. Trembling, he raised his palm and gritted his teeth hard, but in the end, he still couldn't bear to strike him.
"Good son... Your pa is still alive!... For the moment, I reckon I don't quite need this plot yet..."
"Right! Pa, since you're still alive, and little sis is still alive too... then tomorrow I'll level both your grave and little sis's..."
"You!..."
The old Militia's eyes went wide, his whole body shaking with anger. He was silent for a moment, looking at the sincere joy on his son's face, and suddenly felt a sour ache in his heart. He let out a low sigh.
"Forget it! Leave them all here!..."
The old Militia turned his head and gazed out at the scenery from the hilltop. A little hill neither high nor low, mountain flowers blooming in summer. To the east was the broad lake, to the west a camp thick with human smoke and bustle, and to the north and south were flat plains and farmland... Everywhere was the fresh, living breath of