Rebirth: My 1972

December 24, 1978, Christmas Eve. Jiangcheng No. 3 Machine Tool Factory, Tongzilou. Chen Weidong huddled next to the coal pile at the end of the corridor, his back pressed against the cold radiator. The radiator has stopped heating for a long time. The boiler in the factory broke down three days ago and no one has repaired it. Even though he was wrapped in three cotton-padded jackets, he still felt cold. It was not the cold outside, but the cold seeping out from the seams in his bones. It felt like a ball of red-hot coals was stuffed in his lungs. He coughed, and there were a few more dark red spots on the handkerchief. Dark red spreads on the gray-white cotton cloth, like a few blooming plum blossoms. "Xiao Chen, eat something hot." Lao Zhou stumbled over from the corridor carrying a bowl of noodle soup. The old man was seventy years old, and his back was as stooped as a bow. The cotton coat on his body was patched with patches, and the cuffs were worn and shiny. He is the factory janitor, the mailroom, and the only person in this tube building who comes to see Chen Weidong. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.