那是一个阳光明媚的下午，我独自坐在公园的长椅上，周围是一片郁郁葱葱的绿荫。突然，我注意到不远处的草地上有一副残破的围棋盘，上面的棋子已经散落一地，却仿佛在诉说着什么。我伸出手，轻轻拾起一枚围棋子，它的表面有些发黄，边缘有些磨损，但依然能看出是深色的。我轻轻将棋子放回棋盒，手指不自觉地颤抖了一下。这是我说真的次见到这副棋，而它却让我想起了我的父亲。

小时候，我总爱跟着父亲去书房看棋。他总是坐在角落里，手握着一把古色古香的棋子，眼神中充满了对围棋的热爱。可那时我还摸不透他为什么这么偏爱围棋，只觉得他看起来特别安静。后来，我发现他身体每况愈下。

说实话一次见到他是在一个月前，那天他 still was sitting at the table, but his face was filled with worry. I asked him to teach me the game, and he agreed, saying that I was his only child. But now, he never returns home.