"Bang, bang bang..."
In the biting cold wind, a thinly dressed little boy was shivering as he knocked on the gate of a household.
It was Christmas Eve, and laughter could be heard from inside the courtyard.
"Bang, bang bang..."
After waiting a long time without a response, the little boy raised his hand and gently knocked on the door ring again.
"Whoo..."
The weather was freezing. After knocking, he immediately put his hand to his mouth and blew on it to warm up. Not only his hands, but his feet in straw sandals were also so numb they had almost lost feeling.
"Who's there?"
Thankfully, someone in the yard finally responded.
The little boy's face lit up with joy.
"Uncle John, it's me."
He quickly answered.
"Creak..."
Soon, the gate was opened, and a kind-faced middle-aged man peeked his head through the gap.
"Oh, it's Ping. What brings you here so late?"
The middle-aged man asked the little boy.
"Un... Uncle John... we're out of coal at home. I was wondering if I could borrow a few pounds. When spring comes and I can go up the mountain to chop wood, I'll definitely repay you."
The little boy looked embarrassed and avoided eye contact.
"A few pounds of coal? That's nothing. Wait here, I'll get it for you."
The man waved his hand and agreed immediately.
"Ping, have you eaten?"
After a few steps, the man stopped and turned back to ask the boy.
"I... I... I have... Grandpa... Grandpa hasn't..."
The little boy tightly clutched his clothes, his voice trailing off to a whisper.
Seeing this, the middle-aged man sighed softly, then grinned:
"Wait here, Ping. I'll be right back."
"Okay."
The little boy gently nodded.
Another gust of biting cold wind blew, making the boy shiver all over, but he didn't feel as cold inside anymore.
"Ping!"
Not long after, the middle-aged man came out carrying a dustpan.
"Take it."
Uncle John, with white breath coming out of his mouth, quickly walked to the gate and stuffed the dustpan into the boy's arms.
The boy looked down and saw that, besides a few pounds of coal, the dustpan also contained some hot steamed buns.
"Uncle John, I..."
Looking at those big white buns, the boy felt uneasy. But having not eaten for a day, he couldn't help but swallow at the sight of them.
"Take it!"
The middle-aged man smiled warmly.
"Buff, why are you still dawdling in the yard?"
At this moment, a stout woman hurriedly walked to the gate.
Seeing her, both the little boy and the middle-aged man changed their expressions.
"Ping... Ping came to borrow some coal."
The middle-aged man said to the woman awkwardly, avoiding eye contact, filled with fear.
"Aunt Mary."
The little boy greeted the woman.
The woman first glared at the middle-aged man, then looked at the boy, finally her gaze fell on the dustpan in his hands.
Seeing the steamed buns on top of the coal, her face immediately darkened.
"These steamed buns are for Leo. I haven't even taken a bite myself, and you're giving them away so freely!"
The woman glared at the middle-aged man, then angrily grabbed two steamed buns.
"Mom, is the barbecue duck ready? I don't want to eat steamed buns!"
At this moment, a chubby boy in a new cotton-padded jacket came out of the house. Seeing the steamed buns in the woman's hand, he looked displeased.
"Son, why are you out here? It's cold. Go back inside or you'll catch a chill."
The woman hurriedly walked towards the chubby boy, worried.
"Mom, I don't want steamed buns, I want barbecue duck!"
The chubby boy stomped his feet in displeasure, on the verge of tears.
"Okay, okay, the barbecue duck will be ready soon. These buns are for the dog."
The woman doted on the chubby boy, coaxing him while tossing the buns into a dog kennel under the eaves.
"Sigh..."
Seeing this, the middle-aged man frowned, then helplessly sighed.
The little boy bit his lip as he watched the buns being devoured by the dog. He then hugged the dustpan filled with coal tightly, looked up at the middle-aged man with a smile:
"Uncle John, thank you. I'm leaving now."
"Be careful on your way back. When you burn the coal tonight, leave a crack in the window, and cover your Grandpa well."
The middle-aged man waved.
"Buff, if you don't get back inside, you won't be sleeping on my bed tonight!"
The woman's harsh voice came from the house again.
"Coming, coming!"
The man quickly responded, gave the little boy an embarrassed smile, then shut the gate.
Once the gate closed, the last bit of light in the snowy yard vanished, and the world was swallowed by darkness again. Only a small, lit cottage could be seen in the distance to the east.
"With this coal and the steamed buns, Grandpa will surely get better."
The little boy didn't feel scared in the dark. He tucked his head in, smiled, and muttered to himself. He then hugged the dustpan tightly and hopped towards the small, lit cottage in the night.
...
In front of the small cottage.
"Creak..."
The little boy pushed open the door.
"Ping... is that you?"
As soon as he stepped in, a weak, hoarse voice came from a room with a dim light.
"It's me, Grandpa."
The little boy rubbed his frozen face, forced a smile, and quickly walked to the room, lifting the curtain to go inside.
A strong smell of herbs hit him as he entered. Without a stove, the room was as cold as outside.
In the far corner of the room was a bed made from several wooden boards. Under a tattered quilt, an emaciated old man was curled up.
"Grandpa, Uncle John lent me some coal and gave us two steamed buns. We'll roast them and eat them later."
Little Ping poured the coal into the stove, his face full of joy as he spoke to the old man on the bed.
"Good... good..."
The old man smiled and nodded.
Though he exuded an aura of frailty, his cloudy eyes sparkled when he saw Little Ping.
"Ping... these years... it has been hard on you, staying with Grandpa."
The old man looked at Ping with love, his voice trembling.
"Grandpa, I'm not suffering, not at all."
With the stove lit, Ping looked up, grinned, and shook his head at the old man.
"Silly child, such a silly child... If it weren't for you taking care of me these past years, Grandpa would have been long gone..."
The old man caressed Ping's head, full of affection and sighed.
"Grandpa, don't say unlucky things like that. You will definitely live to a ripe old age."
Ping shook his head vigorously while roasting the buns.
"Ping, have you ever heard of immortals?"
The old man suddenly asked.
