The crooked-necked jujube tree in Xiang's yard is once again full of green fruits, but under the tree there are more prickly thorns all year round - Xiang Laogen, the father of the family, squats on the threshold and smokes a cigarette, Wang Xinghua, the mother who was a child bride, wipes her tears by the stove, and the six children are like a nest of cubs biting each other. The eldest daughter, Xiang Huazhi, made the abacus beads crackle, the second daughter, Xiang Chunhua, tied a red headband at the end of her braid in front of the mirror, and the four sons would fight like crazy for half a piece of corn cake.
Xiangyang, the most energetic girl in the village, was leaning against the pile of firewood while cracking melon seeds, her almond-shaped eyes scanning the group of enemies who were connected by blood. Outside the courtyard wall came the smell of Uncle Zhang's pipe and pot from across the door: "Lao Xiang's family wants to sell their daughter!" These words were like sparks splashing into a frying pan - last time the sister-in-law grabbed her mother-in-law's hair and scolded her "old immortal", but Xiangyang jumped up He grabbed the sister-in-law's hair and started talking faster than a butcher's knife: "Where did my brother get into your bed at night? Now he's acting like a filial son and grandson!" The couple was so ashamed that they didn't dare to breathe loudly for a whole month.
"Don't mention the amount of the betrothal gift this time." He opened his chapped palms to Lao Gen. Xiang Yang burst out laughing, frightening the sparrows flying away from the jujube tree. She slowly arranged the melon seed shells to form the word "kill". Everyone in the village remembered that this girl chased chicken thieves with a kitchen knife when she was eight years old.
