In the 1990s, as the story of spring was sung across the country, millions of migrant workers flocked to the south. The rolling wave of migrant workers was like my flying youth; our eyes passed through the years and looked at those unknown people. Many years have passed. Are the passions of those ** people still there? Have their dreams come true? I just want to wander through the past years again from the perspective of one of them. Some people say that it was an era when pigs could fly when standing in the wind. Some people are more hypocritical and say that this is the last tail of the age of innocence. But I saw the bright lights in the factory and the sweat on the assembly line. I was a little proud and a little sad. . .
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
