Early last summer I bought some yam (山药) for food. After many a day, one tuber (植物块茎) left in the kitchen was not 1 to eat any longer. Thinking it was a waste of money to throw it away, I 2 the tuber into a flower pot hoping that it might take root and 3something that could be put on the dinner table.
In the following months I watered the tuber regularly. The 4 yam grew very well. Soon it was autumn, and I decided to 5. I pulled out the yam plant and began to dig with my 6. I dug with full attention when suddenly my fingers 7 the yam root.
When almost no 8 was left, I tried to pull the root but I failed. In 9, I pushed the pot over. Half of the yam root had grown through one of three holes 10. The sight filled me with awe (敬畏). Then and there I 11 my opinion of the climbing plant.
The whole tuber, 12 two parts, one in and one out of the pot, was in the 13 of a handwritten L. Unlike ordinary yam roots, the part outside the pot was not round. It was 14, looking like a thick and strong finger of an old farmer who works hard to make a 15.
The very end of the part outside the pot was 16. Obviously, the skin must have been rubbed off during its 17 with the heavy pot. The very tip of the flat part was 18. Needless to say, it was not damaged by me but by the pot.
I came to understand that the tuber, though 19 wounded, had struggled hard. Such was a Chinese yam, an ordinary-looking climbing plant with 20 characteristics.
