I actually don’t know my exact age or my birthday because I’m an orphan.
It was New Year's Eve thirty-two years ago, and there was a heavy snowstorm.
My father was on his way home when he heard the baby crying and found me in the trash can.
When he saw that my little face was red from the cold, he carried me back home.
My father had a disability in his right leg, so he had been a bachelor. When he found that he could not find my parents, he adopted me.
My childhood wasn't too happy, but it was okay.
Although the family was very poor, they could barely have food and drink thanks to my father's clay sculpture skills.
Although my father has a bad temper and occasionally beats and scolds me, overall he is pretty nice to me.
But I seemed to be a little special. When I was very young, I discovered that the patterns on the blue wall caused by moisture were moving.
Some patterns show armies charging into battle, with soldiers in tattered blue armor fighting each other, with blood and body parts everywhere.
Some patterns are of different animals, such as green rabbits and green foxes, standing upright like humans, staring at me with a pair of red eyes.
After staring for a while, the fox and the rabbit pointed at me and whispered, but I couldn't tell what they were talking about.
The pattern I saw most often was a green... no, I remember it was a black lotus.
A black lotus blossomed, and a little black man sat cross-legged on it.
Pretty and beautiful face!
And below the lotus are countless white lotus roots, piled together, crowded and wriggling.
Like the wriggling maggots in a summer dry toilet.
I vaguely remember that the beautiful little person in the black lotus told me many times that she and I were destined to be together and that we would meet again when I grew up.
Not long after, when I reached school age, my worries began to increase.
My classmates said that I was the son of an old cripple, and that I would become a cripple when I grew up.
The teacher didn't like me either because I always stared at the blackboard like a fool.
But they don’t know that I kept staring at the blackboard because I could see the black lotus and the beautiful little man on it.
The traces left by the white chalk look like lotus roots.
In short, when I graduated from fifth grade and was about to go to junior high school, I felt that school was too depressing and boring, and I couldn't make friends, so I told my father that I didn't want to go to school anymore.
I remember that my father sighed all night and smoked a lot of pipe, but finally he agreed.
From then on, I followed my father and made clay sculptures everywhere.
I also went to many places across the country.
In this process, I discovered that the same thing I saw was more different from what everyone else saw.
In the forest of Northeast China, what I saw was a huge green monster.
In the rice fields of the south, what I see is the long flowing hair of elves.
Looking at the sea in the east, I saw white eyes mixed in with the dark blue.
Of course, I have seen the black lotus the most times.
Wheat fields, snow-capped mountains, and rivers could all be black lotuses.
Rainy nights are when black lotus is most likely to appear.
The dark clouds rolled and formed a black lotus, and the raindrops below were lotus roots.
The little man in the black lotus told me that this is called God has no form, and everything is God!
I also know that I am different from ordinary people.
But I didn't tell my father because I was afraid he would worry.
And what I see is just different from everyone else. I don’t have any pain or discomfort myself.
As I grew up traveling around the country with my father, I also learned clay sculpture from him.
As my father's leg disease became increasingly serious, after I turned fifteen, I had to complete almost all the taller clay sculptures by myself.
Although this kind of life is monotonous, it is interesting and not bad.
However, things are unpredictable.
When I was twenty years old, my father fell ill.
After examination, it was confirmed that it was late stage lung cancer.
Despite our best efforts at treatment, my father passed away five months later.
Before leaving, he told me a secret.
In fact, he didn't adopt me from a trash can.
Instead, he secretly brought it from someone else's home.
He is an old bachelor and is worried that no one will take care of him in his old age. He also really likes children.
Taking advantage of the New Year when my parents were distracted, he secretly took me away.
He also gave me an address and said that was where I was taken away.
I was completely stunned at the time and suffered a great mental shock.
The white clouds in the sky began to turn into little people, no, lotus roots, talking to me.
I finally buried him.
Then, based on the address, I went to find my biological parents.
Before I went, I was both nervous and excited.
Because I always thought that I was an unwanted child.
But it wasn't until then that I realized that my parents didn't abandon me.
I wonder if my parents will look for me everywhere after they find out I’m missing?
Or, give birth to other brothers and sisters?
I hope it's the latter!
Because I have younger brothers and sisters, I can accompany them and make money for them.
The address of my biological parents is not far from where I originally lived.
It’s only more than sixty miles away, in the next town.
But after asking around, I finally only found a dilapidated house.
According to villagers' recollections, after the family lost their child, the mother soon fell seriously ill and died of depression six months later.
The father searched for his son in Baole City, and then rode a motorcycle to search across the country.
Four or five years later, he died in a car accident while searching.
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