I cried holding my dad's pillow.

The damn phone rang again.

After answering, the other end was a barrage of curses. I knew my phone number had been leaked.

"Heard your dad died? Good riddance! Your whole family should die, what a worthless life, your dad deserves to die!"

This sentence completely angered me, and I shouted at the other end like a madman.

The louder my voice, the more excited the other side became.

After hanging up, there were constant calls with foul language, all insulting my dad.

Fortunately, I don't have many relatives left, and I don't usually keep in touch with them to avoid disturbing innocent people.

I changed my phone number.

I called my counselor to make sure the school could reach me.

I also called the police station, explained the situation, and told them I would go back after handling things at home.

They asked me to hurry, as the whole society is now paying attention to this matter.

Both the school and the authorities are under a lot of pressure.

I spent two days cleaning up the small courtyard, clearing away all the weeds.

In the yard, there's a small piece of land where my dad usually grows some bok choy for family consumption.

When I was a child, whenever the bok choy grew, my mom always insisted on giving me some while it's tender and tasty. My dad would always sigh and say, "Such a waste, if we let it grow more, it'll get bigger." But at night, there would always be a bowl of tender bok choy soup in front of me.

I also turned over that piece of land, loosened the soil. If there was enough time, I wanted to plant more bok choy in the ground, just like when my dad was still alive.

When I left my hometown, I stood at the village entrance for a long time, wanting to firmly remember the little bit of childhood memories that were good. Once I left, I didn't know when I could come back.