Begging for Life

The 31st year of the Republic of China (1942), spring, Jiaodong, Shandong, Wangjiatuan** The last weak flame in the stove licked the cold bottom of the pot, reflecting the sweaty temples of Mrs. Wang Zhao and the bloody hands of midwife Li. A weak cry of a cat rang out in the earthen house filled with the smell of blood and firewood smoke, tearing through the chilly night of early spring in Jiaodong. "It's a baby girl!" Grandma Li wrapped the little red and wrinkled thing in rags and stuffed it into Mrs. Wang Zhao's sweaty arms. "His sister-in-law is so lucky to have a new baby!" Mrs. Wang Zhao smiled tiredly, stroking the baby's sparse and soft fetal hair with her fingers, but looking towards the deep darkness outside the window. Another mouth was added, in this time of war and chaos, and God was not open to his eyes... The man Wang Youtian squatted on the threshold of the kitchen and smoked dry cigarettes. The red light in the cigarette pot flickered, reflecting his ravaged and worried face. There was not enough firewood, the seeds for spring had not yet been harvested, and the old Zhang family in Dongtou was robbed by the "rebel" soldiers the day before yesterday... This girl's cry sounded to him like a stone weighing on his heart. Wang Youtian blew his smoke in silence, then got up and went to the yard to chop the few remaining old stalks. He named his daughter "Yun", hoping that she could be like the clouds in the sky, lighter and float farther away, unlike them, who were stuck to this thirsty and war-torn land all their lives. Xiaoyun grew up amidst the choking smell of dry smoke, her mother's low-pitched lullaby, and the never-ending "buzz" of the old spinning wheel in the corner of the house————