My Years as a Rural Outcast

My name is Xie Xiaopi, and my ancestors originally lived in Lingnan.

Decades ago, my grandfather Xie Diebing inexplicably moved our entire family to a small village by the Yellow River. At that time, due to famine, floods, and disease, many people migrated from place to place. The villagers were simple and kind. After settling by the river, the Xie family was quickly accepted by the locals, and our mountain-dwelling, hunting ways gradually blended into the fishing and netting life along the Yellow River.

Grandfather Xie Diebing was a peculiar man. He would often wander alone to the wax channel by the river in the dead of night, staring at the surging waters until the sky began to pale.

One dark, windy night, he put on a fisherman's leather cap, waterproof boots, and slung a long water-dividing spear over his shoulder. With a nervous air, he told my parents that he would be boating out to the wax channel that night, and charged them with keeping careful watch over a certain object in the inner room—under no circumstances were they to let it tip over.

What was this object?

A foot basin filled with clear water, and floating upon it, a tiny paper boat.

Once my parents solemnly agreed, Xie Diebing hurried off into the night.

At the time, my father was not yet thirty, full of energy, and my mother was famed as the village beauty. After lulling me to sleep, the young couple, unable to contain their passion, began their own affair. It had nothing to do with grandfather’s mysterious voyage, but by a twist of fate, in their ardor they