Summary
Huzhou was ravaged by a Great Drought. Father carried me in a bamboo basket all the way to the capital. The Broker dismissed him with ten taels of silver. Before leaving, Father shook me awake from my deep sleep and left me with one sentence: “Little Que, be good. You’ll have food to eat here.” His hand caressed my face affectionately; it was rough and cracked, yet damp. I suspect he had been crying, but though I called out to his retreating figure several times, he never once looked back.