From Ancient Tombs to America

When he climbed out of Cixi's underground palace, he held a ring in his hand with the words "passed on from generation to generation" engraved on it. That year he was Qiu Ba under Sun Dianying, and his biggest thought was to save money to marry a wife. From the Taihang Mountains to the Tianjin Concession, from the Shanghai Bund to San Francisco, he fell in love, slept with the concubine of a warlord, danced with the top brass of Paramount, and fought for his life against No. 76 And Meiji on an isolated island in Shanghai. When Director Zhou died in his arms, he said, Lao Li, I saw the human heart you mentioned. He buried Director Zhou on the mountain, and engraved four words on the monument: A good man. Many years later, San Francisco's Chinatown called him Mr. Lee. He sent people to find those people and brought back a jar of sour wine, a cigarette, a leaf, and a song. Ah Jiu asked him how many years he had traveled from Taihang Mountain to here. Forty years, he said. Long enough. Then he closed his eyes and said, thank you. From Li Ergou to Mr. Li, it took forty years for a mud-legged man to become a human being in troubled times. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.