[Funny ♀ Laughing Out Loud] Who can make me forget,

was in class. My seatmate and I laughed for a full ten minutes, pitying that I accompanied him in laughter for ten minutes\Speaking of which, it was many years ago.\ How could I forget it? \ The college entrance exam was over, and I was idle at home, waiting anxiously. I was waiting for the college admission notice. The university didn't matter; as long as it admitted me, it was the best university in China.\ I was very anxious. More distressing than anxiety was boredom. That was truly boredom. I couldn't even read novels. My mind was preoccupied.\ Now I realize that boredom is actually a kind of pain in life.\ That much-coveted admission notice finally arrived.\ I let myself get excited to my heart's content for a while, then slowly opened the shiny golden letter.\ There were not many words in the letter. Very serious, businesslike in tone.\ I counted the words on the letter, one by one. Then counted them again, one by one. There was no one around. The only company I had were occasional bird calls, a few cicadas, a small clump of white grass liquor, and two burdock plants.\ The stone hanging in my heart fell to the ground. I felt grounded and comfortable, not even knowing my own surname. I became the morning sun at eight or nine o'clock. I suspended my dazzling light over Liujiacun.\ I did not rush to go home. No. I knew my parents were eagerly waiting for this good news as well. My thought was, since they had already waited so long, a little more waiting wouldn't matter.\ I walked outside the village to visit that old locust tree. I stood under the old locust tree for a long time, silently shedding tears. Seeing the tree made my tears unstoppable.\ I heard my own voice reading under the old locust tree. The sound from days gone by. It had not gone far. It had the freshness and clarity of dew.\ I was not visiting the old locust tree. I was visiting myself, my former self.\ When the good news reached home, the atmosphere changed immediately.\ Dad put down his bowl and stared blankly at his son. That was not an ordinary stare; it was fierce. His gaze was twisting with intensity.\ Dad's gaze made my face flush. His own face also turned red, shining with the gloss of braised pork. He forgot his habit of taking an afternoon nap, clasped his hands behind his back, and straightened up as he walked out of the house.\ Mom also put down her bowl.She sat on the edge of the kang, sometimes lifting her hem to wipe her eyes, then lifting her hem to wipe her eyes again. She said, "My trachoma is acting up again."\
Dad sprayed his spit across every corner of Liu Village, then cheerfully received every speck of spit sprayed at him from every corner. Dad's reckless pride made me feel a bit uncomfortable.\
But it wasn't entirely Dad's fault. Liu Village has been settled on Earth for over a hundred years—when has it ever produced a college student?\
Luckily, two days later, Dad sobered up.\
Dad frequently went to the market to sell watermelons. His gaze at the watermelons was very gentle, full of love. That was his son's travel expenses, tuition, and living costs. Couldn't he look carefully?\
I went with Dad to sell watermelons at the market once. Only once—I never wanted to go again.\
That day was very hot, shamefully hot. My fingernails were sweating. Yet very few people at the market came to buy watermelons, as if eating a watermelon would make them catch a cold. So infuriating.\
The disappointment on my face flowed as happily as sweat. Dad saw it, frowned, bent down, picked the smallest watermelon from the basket, smashed it open with his fist, and handed it to me.\
I said, "Dad, you eat too."\
Dad said, "I won't eat. This stuff gives me diarrhea. You eat, you eat. When I tell you to eat, you eat, ha."\
The watermelon was a bit unripe. Not sweet, with a faint urine smell. I ate it carelessly, hurriedly finishing it. The discarded rind had an uneven thin layer of pale pink flesh left on it.\
Dad shot me a fierce glance, walked over, and picked up the rind piece by piece. He flicked the sand off the rind with his fingers, then pressed each piece into his mouth in turn, scraping off the remaining flesh like using a plane.\
Those days, Mom had changed into a different person. She seldom spoke. She liked staring at chicken butts. Not just looking—she often picked at them, meticulously. It was as if the place I was going wasn't a university, but chicken butts.\
Dad said, "Ignore her, your mom has a grudge against chicken butts."\
Indeed, Mom had a grudge against chicken butts. That day, she went again to pick at the butt of a Luhua chicken. According to her, that damned thing had an egg stuck in its butt for two days, still not laid. Was it rusted? Mom was very angry. She turned her fingers into excavators and started working on the Luhua chicken's butt.She successfully dug a puddle of yellow liquid and a few small pieces of eggshell out of the butt of the Lu Hua chicken.\ The day I left home, the poor Lu Hua chicken had died.\ The bus drove far away. I looked back, and I didn't see my parents, nor did I see Liujia Village. What I saw were just a few pieces of watermelon rind and a dead Lu Hua chicken.