Mountain boy picks stars

1

School had already let out in the afternoon.

After school, Huang Xiaoxing carried her schoolbag and went to the construction site where her father worked.

Standing beside the construction site, he could clearly see his father, Huang Dahe, bending over as he carried brick after brick onto a small cart and transported it to the elevator in front of the building.

Huang Dahe pushed a small cart full of bricks into the elevator.

The elevator then transported a small cart of bricks upstairs, and then unloaded them one by one.

Huang Xiaoxing's father, Huang Dahe, is known as a "migrant worker literature enthusiast," but his actual identity is still that of a construction worker carrying bricks on a construction site.

Unlike ordinary construction workers, he made a living by carrying bricks to support his child Huang Xiaoxing's schooling.

At night, he would return to his rented room to read and write.

Huang Xiaoxing stood at the edge of the construction site, gazing affectionately at her father's arduous labor on the building site.

Before I knew it, my eyes were already brimming with tears.

When Father pushed the stroller down from the elevator,

When they returned to the pile of bricks closest to them and continued moving bricks...

Huang Xiaoxing couldn't help but call out affectionately, "Dad—"

Huang Dahe, who was hunched over carrying bricks, straightened up.

Seeing his son right next to the construction site, he gave a heartfelt reply:

"Hey—, Yixing, go home and do your homework first! I'll check it when I get back!"

Huang Xiaoxing: "Dad, when you're done, go home early too!"

2

It was late at night in Huang Xiaoxing's simple rented home, in his "study".

Huang Xiaoxing's father, Huang Dahe, is a "migrant worker literature enthusiast."

He used a cramped room he rented as his study.

The books and other items inside were in a very messy state.

His father, Huang Dahe, was very tired after carrying bricks all day at the construction site.

Although they had no money to buy paper, let alone a computer, they still made the most of their time at home, using their son Huang Xiaoxing's nearly worn-out pencil stubs and the backs of used notebooks to write essays and short stories reflecting the feelings of their generation of migrant workers from the countryside to the city.

At this moment, Huang Xiaoxing went into the cramped kitchen to wash her hands and put on an apron.

First, rinse the rice, then skillfully turn on the gas stove to steam it.

After washing the potatoes, I picked up a knife and started peeling them.

Suddenly, his left finger was cut by the knife, and blood flowed all over his hand, making him wince in pain.

But he covered his mouth with his hand and didn't make a sound.

I found a band-aid in a small cabinet and applied it to the wound on my index finger.

She persisted in cutting potatoes and stir-frying vegetables.

3

The room Huang Xiaoxing rented.

Wearing an apron, Huang Xiaoxing carried a plate of stir-fried potatoes out of the cramped kitchen.

He placed the plate on the small table in the outer room and called out:

"Dad—, dinner's ready! Come and eat!"

After saying that, he went back to the kitchen to serve rice.

Huang Dahe rubbed his eyes and came over from his desk.

He sat down at the table, and without saying a word, picked up his bowl and started eating.

Sitting across from Huang Xiaoxing at the dining table, Huang used a remote control to turn on the old, dilapidated television left behind by the landlord in the rented room.

The TV was showing a clip of Little Phoenix's martial arts moves from the TV series "Palace Intrigue".

Huang Xiaoxing excitedly shouted, "Dad—look—how high Little Phoenix's martial arts skills are!"

When he got excited, he couldn't help but gesticulate wildly.

He accidentally knocked over a bowl of dry rice in front of him, spilling it all over the table.

Huang Dahe slapped Huang Xiaoxing's buttocks hard.

"What can you do? Huang Yitong is a little phoenix that can fly to the sky, while you, Huang Xiaoxing, are not even as good as a little sparrow. Why don't you study harder?"

Huang Xiaoxing picked up rice from the table while arguing:

"You're allowed to like Huang Zhiling, but others aren't allowed to like Xiao Feng?"

Huang Dahe threw a tantrum, like a parent: "What do you know, you little kid? Control yourself. Bring your homework for me to check! If I find any more mistakes, I won't let you off easily!"

Huang Xiaoxing reluctantly handed over the schoolbag: "See for yourself!"

Huang Dahe took his son's homework out of his schoolbag, glanced at it casually, and then scolded him:

"Look at this! You got such a simple question wrong. How can you be so stupid! And look at your books, your pencil case, everywhere you look there are pictures of little phoenixes. Have you been bewitched by those little phoenixes? Is that why your studies have deteriorated like this?"

Huang Dahe grew angrier and angrier, and in a fit of anger, he tore off all the little phoenix pictures from Huang Xiaoxing's book covers and pencil case and threw them on the ground.

"I told you not to keep idolizing celebrities, or you'll get a zero on your exams!"

Huang Xiaoxing pitifully stood up from his seat and began to pack his books and stationery.

She retorted defiantly, "I don't follow these singers!"

Huang Dahe: "Then why did you post these celebrities' photos?"

Huang Xiaoxing: "I just want to fit in with the classmates from the city who are also fans of celebrities, and become their friends!"

Huang Dahe: "Given our family's situation—coming from the mountains to the city for school and renting a place—we're constantly worried about paying rent. You think you can make friends with city students? Dream on! Do you think they'll even respect you?"

Huang Xiaoxing retorted, "Our teacher, Mr. Zhou, actually thinks highly of me!"

Huang Dahe: "What makes you so special that Teacher Zhou would respect you?"

Huang Xiaoxing: "I told our teacher Zhou that my real dream is to fly to the sky and pick stars when I grow up."

Huang Dahe sighed, "Sigh, those were stories your mother told you when you were little. You actually believed them?"

Huang Xiaoxing, still unconvinced, muttered timidly to herself, "If my mom were here, she wouldn't be so mean to me."

Huang Dahe was furious and lashed out again: "You still have the nerve to mention your mother! She always complained that all I did was lay bricks and write novels, that I couldn't make big money. She went out to work and never came back; some people said she was kidnapped by human traffickers. She has two legs, why didn't she come back?"

Huang Xiaoxing stared wide-eyed at her father, venting her resentment with a hateful gaze: "My mother is pitiful enough, you're not allowed to speak ill of her!"

Huang Dahe also stood up from his seat and continued to reprimand:

"Why are you staring at me? You got the question wrong, and you still think you're right?"

Huang Xiaoxing held her head high, looking defiant.

Huang Dahe: "You're happy that your grades have dropped because you're only focused on chasing celebrities, right? Tell me, shouldn't you get a beating? Where should you be beaten?"

Huang Xiaoxing stood there, defiantly turning her head to the side, without saying a word.

Huang Dahe came over and slapped his only son on the butt:

"Let's see if you dare to neglect your studies by chasing celebrities again! Let's see if you'll listen to me again!"

Huang Xiaoxing defended himself, saying, "I don't idolize celebrities! If you don't believe me, go ask your classmates; they call me 'Star Idiot' and 'Mountain Idiot.'"

Huang Dahe: "Just admit it! Our family is so poor, where would we get the money for you to go chasing after celebrities?"

Huang Xiaoren still defended herself: "I'm not a fan of celebrities. I just want to make friends with my classmates in the city through following celebrities. I want to integrate into their group and become one of them."

Huang Dahe got even angrier: "We're from a mountain village, and we want to make friends with city kids by idolizing celebrities? Do you think they'll even look at us? Don't dream about it!"

"Speak," he said, slapping his son's bottom again.

Huang Xiaoxing gritted her teeth, enduring the pain, and didn't shed a tear.