The breakfast at my grandmother's house was never compromised; there had to be both liquid and solid dishes. The solid dish was always a baked pancake, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. As for the liquid dish, during the autumn and winter seasons, it was porridge – either millet porridge or corn gruel. During the spring and summer, thanks to the vegetables from the garden, soup took center stage. Spinach, bok choy, and tomatoes were the main ingredients in the soup. The supporting role in the soup was always cilantro, which my grandmother would finely chop and sprinkle over each type of soup as it came off the stove, making them roll like green beads on top of the soup. In addition to these, my grandmother also prepared small dishes for my grandfather’s wine. He liked to drink wine early in the morning and late in the evening. The dishes were fried fish or scallion mixed with tofu. My grandfather worked as a night watchman in the commune in his later years, leaving home late at night and returning early in the morning. He usually finished his shift around five or six o'clock. As soon as he walked in, my grandmother would have the wine and dishes ready on the table. In the winter, when the sun rose late, my grandfather would sit by the round table drinking wine under the light of a lamp. By the time he finished his wine, I would climb out of bed, and the oil lamp would be turned off. The horizon would be red, and so would my grandfather's face, flushed from the alcohol. When the sun came up, my grandfather would lie down to sleep, while I, being greedy, would rush straight to the dining table without washing up to enjoy the remaining dishes.
My grandmother and I slept in the east room. There was a large kang (a traditional Chinese heated bed) in the east room, painted with blue paint, smooth and shiny. It was so smooth that not only could you see your reflection, but when a cat walked on it, its paws would slip, tilting its body. The bedding was neatly stacked at the end of the kang, covered with blue checked cloth. Why couldn't it be placed at the head of the kang? Because the head of the kang was next to the fire wall and stove pit, and when they got too hot, the bedding would become like a pancake, turning into a burnt yellow color. At that time, fabric and cotton were supplied by tickets, so if the bedding got damaged, it would be a significant loss.
My grandmother loved to tell ghost stories. In the evenings, once she got into bed, ghostly tales would come spilling out of her mouth. I would get scared listening to them, and the fear would make me want to urinate. But the chamber pot was kept by the door, and the room was pitch black, so I wouldn’t dare to get out of bed. My grandmother would then turn over and grab the flashlight, shining a beam of light to give me courage. Often, after I returned shivering to the kang after using the chamber pot, she would stop telling the stories, probably thinking that it wasn't worth wasting the flashlight's brightness if I got scared again. Once my grandmother fell asleep, I couldn’t sleep, eager to know the endings of those stories. So, I would use an "itch scratcher" to wake her up. Besides the flashlight, my grandmother also kept an itch scratcher made from dried corn cobs under her pillow. After I woke her up, I’d ask: “Grandma, what happened next?” In her drowsy state, she would mumble: “What happened next” and then sigh, saying, “This is what happened,” casually finishing the story by giving the ghosts and spirits a destination, dismissing me before falling back asleep. She couldn’t help but sleep because not only did the family’s breakfast depend on her preparation, but all the livestock and poultry in the yard would also awaken, opening their mouths to beg her for food.