Oh, I really shouldn't have. Chatting is chatting, why ask about someone's childhood? Look, now they've asked me back! Haha, it's all my fault for being nostalgic!~~~ As for my childhood, hahaha, so many people went through it with me~~~ To those who were once part of my life, I wish you a lifetime of happiness, joy, and beauty!!
First, we had a game that used the seeds of a certain fruit, which we called "throwing betel nuts," but only the boys played it. Back then, in several alleys near my house, there would be clusters of boys shouting loudly as they played. I was absolutely obsessed and very good at it too, haha, not kidding. I remember always asking my mom and grandma to buy betel nuts. I remember the joy of finding just one after searching the whole house. I remember the excitement of seeing a group of kids playing 'throwing betel nuts' as we turned into an alley on the bike my mom was riding. I remember so much more...............
When I was in the first or second grade of elementary school, playing hopscotch was a game both boys and girls loved. Let me tell you, I was very good at it. I still remember the "houses" drawn with white chalk on the cement ground in front of the classrooms at Haoxi School. A bunch of kids would balance a stone slab on the back of their hand while hopping on one foot. I remember the rules when stepping on the lines and the rhythm of our hops............haha.
At Haoxi School, there was another exclusive boy's game called "jump steps." Haha.
Next, during holidays, a group of us kids would play a game where we threw empty cans and then chased each other. Or, we'd play hide-and-seek at home.
Later, as the game of throwing betel nuts gradually faded away, we started playing badminton at home or in the alleys. Oh no, how could I forget my dad?! Although he only occasionally played with us, it was always Dad who came out when all the shuttlecocks ended up on the roof of the xiaoshantiger (a traditional Chinese architectural feature). Despite Mom trying to stop him because it was somewhat dangerous, Dad would bravely climb onto the roof without even using a ladder sometimes (this has impressed me since I was little). Then, my brothers and I would pick up the shuttlecocks from below, laughing as we gathered dozens at once....... Strangely enough, despite enduring years of wind and rain on the roof, the shuttlecocks seemed to perform better, steadier, and less prone to damage........................Haha, soccer was also something that required Dad's help. I am truly grateful to Dad.
Playing blind man's bluff with my younger brothers at home was incredibly hilarious and would make our stomachs ache from laughter.
Then, we bought our first red-and-white gaming console (buying a gaming console was strictly prohibited by Mom, but we got it anyway. Before this, we played handheld Xiaowangzhe games, often borrowing them from others. I remember once getting so angry over the console with my younger brother that I smashed it to pieces).
When I got angry as a child, it was truly earth-shattering and ghost-tearing.
Speaking of this, my second younger brother and I were mortal enemies when we were small. We fought at least three times a day and five physical altercations. Our hands were often scratched, and Mom scolded us constantly. Eventually, she stopped caring whenever we argued. But even so, we always had a great time when we played together, haha!!
Why did Mom allow us to buy a gaming console? Oh~~ because we borrowed them from others. At that time, we stayed at home playing games like Super Mario, Contra, Snow Bros, etc. We also borrowed game discs from some classmates. Haha.
We also frequently played soccer in the alleys, which was extremely fun. Hmm... playing soccer in the alleys is best with more people, allowing us to form teams of three or four, chasing from one end of the alley to the other! However, my brothers and I often played soccer in our small courtyard at home, resulting in a tragic outcome - one soccer ball got punctured by Mom (Mom was really tough, I admire her). But how could the passion for soccer be extinguished? We made a paper ball by rolling up waste paper, layer upon layer... until it became the size of a soccer ball. To reinforce and shape it, I tied it with flat wire (haha, translation from Chaoshan dialect, no explanation needed) and later covered it with a plastic bag. Hmph, the paper ball had no destructive power, so Mom didn't stop us from playing soccer at home. However, if we got too carried away, Mom would still glare at us sharply. I ignored her.
Then, every evening at 6 PM or 5:30 PM, we watched the animated shows on Skyline TV (thinking about it... "Cardcaptor Sakura," "Doraemon," "Naruto," "One Piece," "Dragon Ball," "Inuyasha," "Transformers"... damn, there are so many I remember but can't recall their names right now).
Next... Playing imaginative dirt-piling games with my younger brothers at places with sandpiles was something we were completely absorbed in.
Then, secretly buying firecrackers and ice cream and hiding outside to eat them was such a joyful experience because of the firecrackers and ice cream, haha (alas, Mom wouldn't let us play with firecrackers or eat ice cream when we were young, but I remember her buying us ice cream when we were very little, and Dad would buy fireworks to set off during the New Year...).
I remember the feeling of kicking a soccer ball in the fields with a group of people, it was breathless.
And then there was playing chess, though it wasn't very frequent, just a few days.
Running to abandoned stone quarries and wall tops to play adventure games was also one of my favorites, haha.
Also, flying kites was super fun. Hmm... hmm... Riding a bicycle was a very pleasant and enjoyable experience, watching different faces, feeling the breeze, admiring the beautiful blue sky of my hometown, haha.
It seems there are so many things left unsaid. Hey, those who spent their time with me, if you remember anything, please tell me... By the way, before I started kindergarten, our family had a large plot of land for growing rice. Ha! There was a tool on the upper floor of our house used to remove the husk from coarse rice; I think it must have been a very traditional, fully manual job. The image that stands out most vividly is the big wooden bucket. Every time I returned home after the autumn harvest, I would always climb inside the bucket and use the iron rings embedded in a straight line as stairs. Ah, thinking about this reminds me that when I was little, before going to bed with Dad, I would imagine my two hands as two people and the bedding as mountains, engaging in a chaotic battle, accompanied by martial arts sounds. Dad would always look at me in surprise, but I ignored him! Haha! Going to the road with Grandma to collect unhulled rice was an unforgettable memory.
Let's talk about my kindergarten days. More than just the cute little children, what accompanied me through kindergarten were cartoons, manually operated merry-go-rounds, slides, etc. Alas, but these all got boring. Let's talk about a game that should be exclusive to boys, called "fighting cards" (translated directly from Chaoshan dialect, although some may not understand...). There seem to be many ways to play, haha, and even more ways to cheat (attaching two identical ones together ensures victory in battles... too evil). Boys back then must have all played this game, haha. I was also very skilled. Not long ago, I saw my little cousin playing this game again. I wanted to try and see if I was still sharp... but my hands have aged, even though my heart hasn't.
After saying so much, we finally reach the most important and exciting part - the self-praise segment! Hmm... let me think... ah... yes! One thing I remember very clearly from my childhood is helping my mom find her wedding ring (at that time, I probably hadn't fully mastered walking yet... isn't that impressive?). Everyone knows that children love looking everywhere, and that's how I was. Hehe, I saw Mom's ring fall to the ground and sweep it into the dustpan, thinking she didn't want it anymore. It wasn't until Mom said her ring was missing and kept searching that I spoke up and pointed to the dustpan (wow, I was so cool). Now, Grandma and Mom always say I was so ugly as a child, but whenever I see the photo of myself wearing a yellow little cotton jacket leaning on the flowerbed railing at Haoxi School, I'm sure I was super cute back then.
This is where my nightmare comes in! The most common monsters I encountered on the way to kindergarten were dogs - domesticated and wild (aren't they all dogs?). This was quite dangerous for me going to school alone. I grew up battling dogs every day. Several times, I ran away from dogs. Fortunately, my running skills were good, but dreams are often reflections of our daily thoughts. I kept dreaming about being chased by dogs, which was truly a nightmare.
Who am I? How could I be defeated by a little dog, even in a dream? That would be too pitiful. So, on a dark and windy night, before sleeping, I gave myself a strong psychological suggestion: everything that happens next is fake, it's all a dream. As soon as I become aware of any impossibility, it's a dream (too cool, I still admire myself now). And sure enough, I dreamed about being chased by a dog. Although I was chased for a short distance, I truly realized I was dreaming (probably because I had too many similar dreams). Haha, I turned around, threw a punch, and kicked. The wild dog was sent flying, and I laughed. Even though I continued to have similar nightmares, I always beat them up (wow, so cool, this must be immunity against nightmares). Haha, so friends who have nightmares can try my pre-sleep suggestion method. Here's a secret: if you master it well, you can control your dreams. Truly, I've tried it... though it's a bit difficult.
Although my connection with dogs was terrifying, I don't hate them. I'm still a little afraid of them.
Alright, self-praise is over. Fellow villagers, go home and eat first, we'll continue later...
What else did I do in the four seasons of my childhood? Ah! How could I forget this! Hehe, I also worked as a duck herder for Grandma. The ducks we worshipped with were raised at home. When the ducklings grew up, they were taken to the pond behind Uncle Dingxin's house, and brought back home at night. This was a tough job, as there were always one or two ducks that wouldn't listen. Sigh, I didn't want to do this, but now I regret it! Speaking of Grandma, hehe, when I was little, I loved it when Grandma asked if I wanted to go worship the Ber Gong (local deity). Of course, I happily followed, and I was always the first to arrive! Worshiping the Ber Gong was secondary, playing was the real reason. Because the temples in our hometown were generally park-like or peaceful and harmonious places, and when we arrived, we could enjoy the shimmering fishponds (alas, most of them have been filled up now). We strolled along the paths around the fishponds, and played cops and robbers on the stone steles of the donor lists with my younger brother (we initially thought the old guard wouldn't allow it, but he didn't care about us). Wow, once, Xiao Kun, Xiao Jie, and my younger brother and I flew kites here (Xiao Kun mentioned this once, but I had no memory of it at the time. Alas, I suffer from short-term memory loss, but mostly permanent memories). Besides being a duck herder, fishing (that "beautiful" and "long" little stream, why did I only catch African catfish? Could you give me a grass carp or a carp? Sigh, that's impossible! Talking about fishing, sigh, I once secretly took shrimp to use as bait and got scolded by Mom... because we had caught all the worms, we had no choice... although I couldn't touch the worms when they were lively because I was scared of snakes! They were all caught by my second younger brother. But when a worm became several worms, it was my turn to handle them). Catching tadpoles (we brought them home to raise for a few days and found they grew legs, how happy!...), planting peanuts (why peanuts? Hmm... think, oh, I know, because I saw examples of planting peanuts in the natural science textbook in elementary school), raising silkworms, picking and collecting kapok flowers (boiling kapok flowers makes cooling water, which is what Mom and Grandma always did, I guess it makes sense. Haha, although Grandma said we should knock down the kapok flowers from the tree near Uncle Dingxin's door without being seen, I found Uncle to be a good person, even though... can't speak ill of elders), being companions to kittens and puppies (those tiny cats and dogs were so adorable...), catching cicadas (there were so many cicadas on the kapok trees in front of Uncle Dingxin's house. Looking at the tall trees, I realized catching cicadas was actually so simple!! Haha, holding the cicada in my hand, feeling its vibrations, this feeling... do you understand it?), playing water wars with my two younger brothers through the gate of our house (haha, although we were scolded severely by Mom, it was worth it! And we didn't get fevers or colds either, so Mom worried too much)... These are all precious treasures of memories...
Thinking about the four seasons, I remembered the Mid-Autumn Festival back then, wow!! The Mid-Autumn Festival was so cool!!! It must have been a long time ago, when those kind and friendly elderly people were still around, and when that dirt path hadn't yet turned into a concrete road. Hehe, moving on to the main topic - the indispensable activity during the Mid-Autumn Festival near my house was burning towers (why near my house? Because it was organized by us children, although it wasn't as grand as the two-story towers built by adults near the school, ours were quite spectacular). Older Brother Xuan and his classmates would go to construction sites or other places to fetch bricks for building walls (this was doing mischief, kids don't imitate! Haha). Meanwhile, we younger ones would stay behind to guard the bricks.
In the evening, we would throw burnable items into the tower made of bricks stacked together. Haha, the flames burned fiercely, attracting many people. Under the full moon, in the autumn breeze, it was exceptionally warm. Pouring salt into the tower would produce crackling sounds, making the fire even stronger - nice!! My grandfather seemed to have given us guidance on how to stack the tower. Ah, those people, that Mid-Autumn Festival, you were truly beautiful~~~~~
I feel so embarrassed, how could I forget the most brilliant and dazzling period of my comic career in my childhood! (moved) Why did I start drawing comics? Well, this has a deep-rooted cause! It's inseparable from my love for watching cartoons (why do I like watching cartoons? All thanks to the teachers in kindergarten who kept showing cartoons to us little pkids for no reason). Of course, this isn't the main reason! I remember the first time I picked up a pen to draw comics was on the back of some六合cai lottery newspaper belonging to Dad...
Almost every page of the newspaper had my bold strokes on its pristine white back. Later, as people always seek improvement, I felt that the characters I drew were just a circle plus a few irregular ovals, lacked storyline, and weren't satisfying when drawn on newspapers that eventually got burned as firewood. Haha, the moment of innovation had arrived! I forgot exactly how old I was, but I began drawing comics in ruled notebooks, mimicking famous anime plots and characters (I forgot whether the first imitation was "Naruto" or "Dragon Ball", but I definitely imitated both. "Inuyasha" was included too!). Later, I felt that merely imitating others wasn't meaningful (the key reason was that Skyline TV stopped airing "Naruto"...). Thus, I decided to create my own stories (hehe, mostly about saving the world). As for how my drawings turned out, purely amateurish, just random doodles by a little pkid. It's time to explain why I developed such a deep connection with comics. In fact, this involves fate and personality. Before drawing comics, I would look around the house or search through textbooks for appealing pictures and then draw them, sticking them on the living room walls (this wasn't to show off to others, and at that time, I didn't even have that awareness. I did it entirely to make our living room, which had been ruined by pencils and pens, look better, as a way to atone for our sins). Perhaps because of this, I developed patience and a sense of mastery in drawing, avoiding frustration when my characters didn't look human. (Though my drawings weren't great, I inexplicably felt good about them, leading to gradual improvement.) The most crucial reason is that I found a way to make my dreams slightly more tangible - by drawing them out. (Haha, haven't I mentioned that I liked fantasizing about battles between justice and darkness before sleeping? Hehe, because I went to bed too early, so I indulged in fantasies, which surprisingly helped me fall asleep faster! Isn't it that some people write down their dreams, and they're called novelists? But I didn't want to express my dreams through words, possibly due to the ridiculous writing assignments our teachers gave us in elementary school, causing me to develop a hatred for writing... This problem improved somewhat when I reached middle school.) The last reason... Hmm... Hmm... Around that time, I basically stayed at home all day, extremely bored. Drawing comics allowed my stories to become visual and helped pass the dull holiday time - a win-win situation. Haha, I remember Mom and Grandma telling my younger brothers to look at how diligent their older brother was, studying at the table, but the younger brother retorted that I was just drawing, while I remained silent, continuing my journey into another world. (There's another incident where I got angry because of comics, but I won't mention that mischievous and annoying cousin here! I wasn't that mischievous as a child! I was shy...)
After several rounds of additions and revisions, I've basically shaped my childhood narrative, but I still feel like I've forgotten something... It seems the story isn't over yet. You agree, right? Yes! How could we forget the person I saw every time I had a fever? I only knew he was a doctor, Dr. Shi Renzi. He left a deep impression on me as a kind doctor whose injections in my buttocks weren't painful during the process, but sitting on the rear rack of Mom's bike afterward was unbearable. He was highly skilled (back then, a single injection and a few packets of medicine would almost cure me when I was sick). That's it, the rural doctor, may you be happy!! Grandpa left a very deep impression on me, one that will never fade. Grandpa was a genuine farmer, hardworking, kind, strong, thrifty, and an old farmer who saved every penny. Even in his later years, he continued farming, chopping wood, and selling prawns. Why wouldn't an old man enjoy his retirement? I think this is who my grandpa was - shaped by the era of poverty and hardship, he became a hardworking and patient grandfather. Grandpa was frugal but doted on us. He didn't talk much, and his greatest hobby was studying the lottery numbers. Grandpa was cool because he woke up the earliest every day. I loved listening to Grandpa tell stories from his childhood, the clearest of which was when Japanese invaders occupied our country and beautiful hometown. As a child, Grandpa would often sneak to the back of the fortifications to pick up bullets (I don't know why, but it must have been fun...)... There's so much more about Grandpa, but I'll keep it in my heart forever... Nainai, Grandpa's mother. I also loved listening to stories from Old Mother when she was young, but she usually told them to Mom, and she had the best relationship with Mom. Old Mother worked as a maid in a landlord's house when she was young, then married our ancestor, and later, we became a big family...
Such a long time ago!!! My favorite thing to do was to sleep with Old Mother's leg as a pillow every night, it was so comfortable!~~~ Thank you, Grandma...
Mom and Dad, sigh, they're truly a perfect match! Looking at their youthful photos, I can tell that Dad and Mom were outrageously handsome and beautiful