When I narrate my experience of returning Shandong, my hometown, from Shanghai, a remote southern area of China, to my grandma over and over again, grandma recalls the ever eighteen years old of my father with her hand chucking on my head.
　　When father was on eighteen, he was admitted to a senior high middle school, renowned in the county at that time. Unfortunately, cruel realities seized him of his right for further education because his elder brother would marry while his younger brother and sister were to be taken care. Facts forced him to leaving that learning sanctuary and stepped on a road to work. 'Work', this word appealed having touched the sore throat of father at the very idea of it, so till now, he has always been requiring us to study well and be able to receive university education... The eighteen years old of my father changed his life road and also his fate all through his life.
　　Woodworking during that time (1970 or so) was craftsmanship able to earn big monies for youths dropped away from schools. Bringing simple luggage with his (and two novels Romance of Three Kingdoms and Outlaws of the Marsh (Shui Hu Zhuan in Chinese), my father, together with other fellow got on the training bound for Yantai, Shandong. Sitting in the train, everybody looked so excited, but a glimmering of sorrow was disclosed from the eyes of the father. July, in the so-called 'dorm', mosquitoes ruled house, they constantly attacked people who lived there… With the process of time, father missed home, but the only thing he could do was to look in the moonlight into the distance where the home was located… On the 24th day of the twelfth month of the lunar year, a home letter came to him saying that his elder brother was to marry so he would return home as soon as possible. He had obtained RMB200 yuan then and due to his cleverness and quickness in learning, his boss additionally prized him 20 yuan when he was to leave. Father was very glad because 220 yuan was after all a big amount at that time. Carrying the money in his clothes, father got on the train himself. Since it was the first time he himself alone left for another place, father was especially careful. The slowly advancing train finally took him back to his county. It was 8 pm. Already, 'no bus, no public telephone available…', sighed the grandma. Yes, The development level at that period can not be mentioned in the same breath with the present day at all. Father was afraid, but thanks goodness, he remembered his father's sister's son's wife lived in the city as indicated in the letter. According to the address indicated, he found her home. Father was so excited because he finally reached 'home'. However, after father asked her to lodge him for a night, she refused with a pretext as 'My home was huddled with persons already!'. Standing outside the door, his eyes were full of tears of indignations… The clock pointed to nine at night, there was still over 50 miles away from his home. Having no alternatives, may father, timid but adamant, marched towards home with his luggage on his back. At the beginning, he could see several trucks passing through him like wind, but after eleven and twelve o'clock, thrilling wind enveloped him, the skyline of the city was far behind him, only a clean but frozen asphalt road followed his footmarks. The God, however, seemed intended to play tricks on this child homebound in the deep night. It sprinkled a great deal of fine snow or rain-felt dots and they vied with each other to get into the body of father along his neck and down to his trousers for warming themselves… Father knew on no accounts he should stop or look back in spite of the even colder weather. So he picked up his steps and shortly afterwards a vast expanse of whiteness covered here and there , which made you difficult to distinguish the right direction. Tightening his overcoat again, father kept walking. Suddenly, he saw some 'lights' in the field at a distance of some hundreds of meters away. How was it possible… All at once, he recalled 'elf fire' ever mentioned by old grandpas when they told stories… He didn't dare to cry because under the silent sky，such cries might be more terrible. Father ran like mad along the road, for fear of the could-be besetting by elf fire. Road was rather slip and father slipped. He hurried to stand up and continued to run and then slipped again,……
　　Eventually, the day broke slightly and father had become a Father Christmas, white hair, white eyebrows and white coat… Looking up, he found houses in rows, so kind-felt to him. Wasn't that his home?
　　When the door opened finally, he threw into the bosom of his mother and cried. His elder father, sister and younger sister, the whole family embraced together. Tears thawed snows on his body; Tears woke up the sun fallen into sleep!
　　Father covered the over fifth miles of road in the dark by himself! It was the eighteen years old of Father. His experience full of frustrations always reminds me not to hug myself on trifle achievements but instead, press forward towards more ambitious objectives!