Suddenly, there was a commotion outside, with familiar rural accents.

　　My mother lightly knocked on my door, "Xiaoxiao, Xiaoxiao!" From my room, I could see the back of the mountain.

　　My mother almost squeezed her whole head in, greedily looking at the people outside.

　　"Someone! There are people!" They were each carrying baskets on their backs and holding tools in their hands, walking towards the mountain.

　　It was at this moment that my mother realized that the trees outside had sprouted green buds.

　　The long winter was ending, and spring was about to come.

　　We have been trapped in this yard for over three months.

　　My mother seemed like someone just awakened from a deep sleep, suddenly realizing the passage of time.

　　"Her child really doesn't grow! It doesn't grow at all!" My mother cried and laughed, she tore open the wooden planks on the window with her bare hands, her fingers covered in blood.

　　She stuck her head out from the sealed crack, shouting loudly, waving her hands towards the people on the other side of the mountains.

　　The rough wood splinters pierced into her arms, but she didn't even blink.

　　"Is anyone there? Please come and save me!" "Hey! We're right here! Look up!" Someone passed by outside our courtyard, less than five meters away.

　　We could see the spiraling pattern on their heads.

　　But nobody looked up, nobody noticed my mother's desperate plea for help.

　　I was the first to give up escaping and accept the situation.

　　I sat beside her watching my mother's futile efforts, kindly reminding her, "They can't hear you." My mother cried for help countless times, but she always held onto hope.

　　She always thought that nobody passed by because we lived in such a remote area.

　　Now, she finally accepted her fate.

　　Her body sagged down, collapsing weakly on the ground.

　　My sister-in-law appeared at the door, not knowing when she had arrived, "Mom, what happened to you?" My mother raised her clouded eyes and burst into laughter, "We can't escape! We can't escape at all! You never intended for us to survive!" I don't know when she broke off the sharp splinters from the window, and she forcefully stabbed it into her chest.

　　I saw her eyes widen suddenly, her arm muscles reflexively trying to pull the wooden shard out.

　　But my mother didn't do it.

　　She furrowed her brow, took deep breaths, and forcefully pushed the wooden shard further in.

　　She died with her eyes wide open, her face a contradictory mix of pain and relief.

　　My brother also witnessed this scene.

　　He was the last one to arrive.

　　"Mom! What happened, Mom!" My brother pushed my sister-in-law aside and picked up my mom, who was covered in blood.

　　He pulled out a wooden stick and threw it aside, causing my mom's wound to bleed even more.

　　It was already beyond recovery.

　　My brother cried sorrowfully, tears and snot smearing his face.

　　"Brother, this is liberation.

　　Why aren't you happy for Mom?" My sister-in-law chimed in, "Yes, Qiangzi, this was Mom's choice." "Let's go downstairs and eat.

　　I made braised pork today." This was my mom's signature dish.

　　My brother slowly lifted his head and glanced back and forth between me and my sister-in-law.

　　He seemed to have gone mad too, pointing at me and saying, "You're not normal at all! You're a monster! You're a monster!" "And you! Your child will never be born! It died a long time ago! It died on the night of the 29th of the lunar new year! You have no intention of letting me go!" Using the wooden stick he pulled out from my mom's chest, he inserted it into his own chest in the same way.

　　He had much more strength than my mom and forcefully coughed up a mouthful of blood.

　　He looked towards my sister-in-law and laughed, "Don't even think...about trapping me here for the rest of my life..." My brother died while still smiling.

　　I don't know if he understood my mom's thoughts before her death.

　　They fell together with the same expression, the same posture, the same way of dying.

　　In that moment, I felt that they truly were mother and son.