"Grandfather?"
The silver-haired old man gripped the edges of the sink with both hands. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he stared fixedly at himself in the mirror.
"That's right, I didn't miscount! There's another one! Another one!"
As Maternal Grandfather grew increasingly agitated, Doctor Gao took a medicine bottle from his pocket, tipped a few pills into his palm, and walked over to him. "Didn't your previous seven heads grow in gradually too?"
"I haven't grown a new head in a very long time!"
"Is this eighth head different from the others?" To Doctor Gao, Maternal Grandfather was the most knowledgeable and intelligent person in the family. His seven heads considered problems from different angles and stored vast amounts of knowledge, helping the family through many difficult times. But as he aged, his health deteriorated, and those heads became more of a burden.
"It's different. This head is still lucid. Chop it off! Chop it off!"
"Grandfather, calm down first." Doctor Gao slowly brought the hand holding the pills toward Maternal Grandfather's mouth from behind. "Can you tell me more about it?"
"It's a head younger than mine, in its sixties. The damned thing! It looks honest and good-natured, but its eyes are full of poison. It reeks of flowers and blood. This head is watching me! Even while I'm talking, it's staring at me!" Maternal Grandfather spoke rapidly, slapping at the empty air beside his shoulder as though something had bitten into him.
"Flowers and blood? In its sixties?" At Maternal Grandfather's description, Doctor Gao stopped in his tracks, abandoning his attempt to slip him the pills. "Why does this new head sound so much like Florist?"
Smack!
Maternal Grandfather slammed his hand into the wall beside the mirror. He was beginning to lose control.