那时候，我已经将近三十岁了。古人说：三十而立。而我连自己的生活都还没法自立，怎么办?继续等待，还是就此放弃心中的电影梦?幸好。我的妻子给了我最及时的鼓励。

　　妻子是我的大学同学，但她是学生物学的，毕业后在当地一家小研究室做药物研究员，薪水少得可怜。那时候我们已经有了大儿子李涵，为了缓解内心的愧疚，我每天除了在家里读书、看电影、写剧本外，还包揽了所有家务，负责买菜做饭带孩子，将家里收拾得干干净净。还记得那时候，每天傍晚做完晚饭后，我就和儿子坐在门口，一边讲故事给他听，一边等待"英勇的猎人妈妈带着猎物(生活费)回家"。

　　【参考译文】

　　I was approaching 30 back then. As an ancient Chinese saying goes, a man is supposedly independent at the age of 30. But how could I move on when I was still financially dependent? Should I keep biding my time or simply let my movie dream go? Thankfully, my wife offered me much-needed encouragement just in time.

　　My wife and I were college mates. As a biology major, she graduated into a small research institute as a drug researcher with awfully meager pay. Our elder son Li Han was born into such a struggling family while I was going through a rough patch in career. Those were the tough years when, apart from reading books, watching movies and writing screenplays all at home, I took care of house work all on my own, ranging from grocery shopping, cooking and babysitting to housecleaning, simply to offset my sense of guilt deep down. As far as I can recall, whenever the night fell, I, as a rule, prepared dinner and sat at the doorway with my son, telling him stories while waiting for “the brave hunter-mother taking home her game (i.e., our living expenses)”.