My bf has a habit of traveling with one book. He would put it on the bag for the convenience of reading on the bus or before sleep. Of course, he shares the book with me.
This time, he holds a book in hand, To Live written by a famous Chinese writer Yu Hua. One day after lunch nap, it cost me two hours to read without stopping.
It's a Chinese family story happened in a special period told by an old man in a simple way, you could feel each word like a stone lying in the river, silent as well as powerful.
The book reminds me of one of my favorite, My Childhood. They are all stories of HOW TO LIVE, in other words, HOW TO SURVIVE from all kinds of sufferings.
In a few pages, the book would let you meet a crowd of people. They eat, talk, work, fight vigorously like animals.
In a few sentences, one or two of them would die in silence as if you couldn't stop insects getting stepped on.
In a few words, the whole life of one person would be summarized from others' chit-chat in an ordinary way.
Finally, there is a sign.