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About This Novel

Zheng Zhenshu stepped on the loose wood chips and walked out of the sawmill to the semicircular storage yard. In the background is the violent sound of a band hacksaw passing through the body of wood. At the stockyard, a large truck was unloading wood in the sunshine. Four or five workers were busy on and off the bus as if they were moving ants. As for the scene behind him, he knew that the old man watching the door was useless. Outside the gate, there is no doubt that spring has changed the color of the wilderness and is approaching step by step, making people dare not slack off in the spring. In the shadow of a camphor tree at the edge of the stockyard, Zheng Zhenshu stopped. The way he tilted his head, it seemed that he had not yet been freed from the comfort of cutting wood quickly with a hacksaw, and fell into a new joy. Due to the strong influence of the sunlight outside the shade of the tree, his eyes narrowed to slits.

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