During the night, she dreamed again. Somehow, she always had dreams when she spent the night outside and couldn't sleep well. But fortunately, this time, the dream was not a gruesome scene before her death, but when she was a child. It seemed to be the same early fall, she and her little friends were playing under the big locust tree, and at the intersection, her grandmother, dressed in an old-fashioned pair of long coats and embroidered cloth shoes, shouted from afar, "ZiZi, come home for dinner--" She ran and jumped home, and in the yard there was a wooden table with two simple dishes, plus a plate of Grandma's pickled crispy cucumbers. While eating, she threw the rice grains that had fallen on her clothes to the ground to feed the ants, and in her ears was her grandmother's fine exhortation, "ZiZi, you have to study hard, study a lot to be smart, and smart people won't go
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