Once upon a time there was a student who lived in a loft with nothing; at the same time, there was a veritable little businessman who lived on the first floor and owned the whole house.
There is a kid who lives with this little businessman. Because here, on every Christmas Eve, he can always get a plate of porridge to eat with a large piece of butter in it! This little merchant can supply this stuff, so the kid lives in his shop.
One night, the student walked in through the back door and bought himself some candles and dried cheese. No one runs errands for him, he must come and buy it himself. He bought what he needed and paid for it. The little businessman and his wife nodded to him, wishing him good night.
This lady can do more than just nodding her head—she is also a genius who can speak! The student also nodded. Then he stood still suddenly, reading the words on the piece of paper with dried cheese. This is a page torn from an old book.
This page shouldn’t have been torn off, because this is a very old collection of poems.
“There are so many books like this!” said the little businessman.
“I traded a few coffee beans from an old woman. You only need to give me three copper plates and you can take all the rest.”
“Thank you,” the student said, “please give me this book and take back the dried cheese; I only eat butter and bread. It is a sin to tear a whole book into a mess. You are a capable man. A person who is practical, but when it comes to poetry, you don’t know more than that basin.”
This sentence is very impolite, especially using the basin as a metaphor. But the little businessman laughed, and the students laughed, because this sentence was just a joke. But the kid was angry: someone dared to say this to a merchant and landlord who sold the best butter.
When night came, the shop closed its door. Except for the students, everyone went to bed and went to sleep. Then the kid walked in and took the tongue of the little businessman’s wife because she didn’t need it when she was sleeping.
As long as he puts the tongue on any object in the room, the object can make a sound, speak, and can express its thoughts and feelings like a wife.
The kid put his tongue in the bowl of newspaper.
“Some people say you don’t know what poetry is,” he asked, “is this true?”
“Of course I understand,” said Penzi. “Poetry is a kind of stuff that is printed in newspapers and can be cut off at will. I believe that there are more poems in my body than that of the student, but for small businessmen Say, I’m just a worthless pot.”
The kid put his tongue on a coffee mill again.
Ouch! The coffee mill has become a chatterbox! So he put his tongue on a bucket of butter, and then put it on the money box-their opinions are the same as those of the basin, and the opinions of the majority must be respected.
“Well, I want to tell that student these opinions!”
The kid walked quietly from a back staircase to the attic where the student lived. Candles were still lit in the room. The kid peeked in through the keyhole of the door. He saw that the student was reading the broken book he had taken from downstairs. But how bright is in the room! A shiny beam of light emerged from the book.
The beam of light became a trunk and then grew into a big tree.
It grows very tall, and its branches are still stretching in all directions. Each leaf is fresh, and each flower is the face of a beautiful woman—some black eyes are shiny, and some are blue. Every fruit is a bright star. In addition, there are wonderful singing and music in the room.
Hi! Such a magnificent sight is something the little devil has never thought of, let alone seen or heard of it. He stood there on tiptoe, looking and looking until the light in the room went out-the student blew out the light and went to bed.
But the kid is still standing there, because the music has not stopped. The voice is soft and beautiful.
“It’s really beautiful here!” said the kid.
“This is beyond my imagination! I really want to live with this student.” Then he thought about it sensibly and sighed, “This student doesn’t have porridge for me to eat!” So he still Go downstairs and go back to the little businessman’s house.
He came back just in time, because the basin almost used up his wife’s tongue-it had already said everything on one side of the body, and was about to turn over and talk about the other side. Just then, the little devil came, he took his tongue and returned it to his wife.
But from this moment on, everything in the store—from the cash box to the firewood—has echoed the basin. They respect it and admire it, so that when the shop owner read art and drama review articles in the newspaper at night, they all believed that it was Panzi’s opinion.
Little ghosts can no longer sit quietly and listen to them showing off their wisdom and learning. No, as long as there are lights coming out from the attic, he feels that these lights are like anchors, and he insists on pulling him up. He had to climb up and put his eyes on the small keyhole to look inside.
A heroic emotion aroused in his chest, as if we were standing beside a rough sea that was being hit by a storm. He couldn’t help crying! He himself didn’t know why he shed tears, but when he shed tears, he felt a sense of happiness: how happy it is to sit under that tree with the students!
However, this is something that cannot be done-he is satisfied to be able to look through the small hole. He was standing on the cold stairs, and the autumn wind blew in from the round window of the attic. The weather has become very cold. However, only when the lights in the attic went out and the music stopped did the little boy start to feel cold.
Hi! Then he shivered, climbed down the stairs, and returned to the warm corner. It’s very comfortable and cozy there! The Christmas porridge and a large piece of butter came, and only then did he realize that the little merchant was his master.
In the middle of the night, the little ghost was awakened by a terrible knock on the window door. Someone was yelling outside. The night watchman was blowing the horn because there was a fire-the whole street was in flames.
Where did it come from?
Everyone is in panic. The little businessman’s wife was confused, and quickly tore off the gold earrings from her ears and stuffed them into her pockets, thinking that something was finally saved; the little businessman was busy looking for his stock; the maid ran to find her black silk cloak.
Everyone wants to save their best things.
Of course the kid is the same. He ran upstairs in a few steps and ran into the student’s room. The student was standing calmly in front of an open window, looking at the flames in the house opposite. The kid snatched the strange book on the table and stuffed it into his Little Red Riding Hood, while holding the hat with both hands.
Now, this best treasure has finally been rescued!
He ran away quickly, all the way to the roof, to the chimney. He sat there, the fire of the house opposite illuminating him—he held the hat with the treasure in his hands. Now, he finally knows the true feelings in his heart, and knows to whom his heart really is.
However, after the fire was extinguished and his mind calmed down–“Hey…I have to divide myself between two people.” He said, “I can’t abandon the little merchant for that bowl of porridge!”
This is very close to humanity! We all go to the little merchant too-for our porridge.