"Medicine" 8: A lot of time passed; the number of people visiting the graves gradually increased, and a few old and young people appeared and disappeared among the earthen graves. Seeing this, Aunt Hua was afraid that he was about to go crazy with grief; she could not help but stand up and said softly: "Let it go! I'll come back later." She did not look up, and spoke to him directly. He was surprised again, but saw a woman with protruding cheekbones, thin lips, about fifty years old standing in front of her, with her hands on her thighs, no skirt tied, and her legs spread out, just like a compass with thin legs in a drawing instrument. He was stunned. "Don't you recognize me? I held you in my arms!" Lao Shuan seemed to hear someone asking him, but he did not answer; his spirit was now only on a bag, as if he was holding a baby who had been passed down for ten generations, and everything else had been put aside. "Let it go! I'll come back later." The woman left. Another woman came along the path, also with half-white hair and ragged clothes; she was carrying a worn-out red lacquer round basket with a string of paper ingots hanging outside, and she walked with a rest every three steps. Suddenly, seeing Aunt Hua sitting on the ground and looking at him, he hesitated a little, and a look of shame appeared on his pale face; but he finally gritted his teeth, walked to a grave on the left, and put down the basket.

That grave and Xiaoshuan's grave were lined up in a row, separated only by a small path. Aunt Hua saw him arrange four dishes and a bowl of rice, stood and cried for a while, and melted the paper ingots; she thought secretly in her heart, "The one in this grave is also a son." The old woman wandered around and watched for a while, and suddenly her hands and feet trembled a little, staggered back a few steps, staring blankly.

Seeing this, Aunt Hua was afraid that he was going crazy with grief, so she could not help but stand up and gently asked: "Are you, the old lady, here? Has your son come back?" The old woman did not speak, but pointed at the grave, shook her head, and sobbed.