Su Xiaofeng never thought that the turning point in life would be hidden in a sea of apricot flowers.
As the first village secretary assigned to Xinghuagou, he stepped into this seemingly peaceful land with the trust of the organization and the concern of his family. Under the apricot blossoms all over the mountain, there are the simple smiling faces of the villagers, the steaming mutton soup, the altered writing on the account books, the rusty steel bars under the cracks in the ditch, and the envelope quietly stuffed on his pillow late at night.
Why was Widow Liu's subsistence allowance "distributed but not received"? Who deducted the life-saving money from the four children of Zhang Lao's family? Was the ditch collapse a year ago really just a "natural disaster"? The hesitant look in the village party secretary's eyes, the missing half of the little finger of the village director, and the silver chain around the neck of Zhao Chunhua, the daughter of a poor family, that does not match her family background... In this village of apricot blossoms, everyone holds secrets, like buds pressed on the branches, heavy and afraid to bloom.
When Su Xiaofeng touched the pile of yellowed construction records in the cellar under the old apricot tree, and when the note "Don't believe them" rolled out of the apricot core that Zhao Chunhua stuffed into him, he realized that being stationed in the village was not only about building roads and providing subsistence allowances, but also about prying out the "unsaid weight" - the conscience wrapped up in interests, the truth concealed by silence, and the love and hatred of generations of people for the land.
The wind blew through the Xinghua Valley, and the petals fell silently. But there are always people who want to hear that voice and let the stories buried in the soil see the light of day.
