Chen Shixu's Prose
by Chen Shixu
About This Novel
Birch Ridge is not just about oak trees. Fish-scale pine, pitch pine, Chinese fir pine, oak tree, color tree, acacia, black locust, Qingtong, and hazelnut trees are all over the mountains and slopes. All the trees were tightly surrounded by bushes. The dense shrubs were bustling with whippets, wild lilacs, foxtails, peonies, wild roses, broom plums... The company commander gave us directions along the way, leading us along the path that was soft and soft from the rotten fallen leaves over the years. We heard that the company commander was going down the mountain to pick up his wife, who was visiting relatives from Guan Nei, and we specifically asked to come with him. Passing through dense woods exuding a strong scent of resin and strawberries, and passing through forest clearings with sparse trees and a little sunshine, the dew-soaked shrubs and grasses pouring onto the road on both sides brushed our trouser legs and arms diligently, like a silent and timid caress.
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