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... f twelve, I lifted my mother's hand and asked, "Dead? What is death?"

"Death is that you can't think about anything, you can't see or hear anything, and one foot has stepped into another world."

"What about the other foot?"

My mother touched my head and sighed, "I'm still here, Dahei can't bear our little Meng, he will always be there."

I cried, "Don't die! We don't all die!"

My mother patted my hands, squatted down, and said seriously, "Okay, we won't die, we ...

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Writing, drawing, and occasionally pretending to be a master of calligraphy, fooling people into paying customers with a lot of money…

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