The skylight filtered in through the holes in the window paper, and a thin beam shone right on Li Shengli's eyelids.
Before he opened his eyes, his mother Zhang Guifang's sigh floated into his ears, carrying the coolness of the morning.
"Oh, another day."
The sound was not loud, but it was heavy in the small space of Shengli Zaobao.
The tinkling bicycle bells could be heard on the street, and the radio gymnastics slogans from the factory loudspeakers in the distance, one two three four, two two three four, were monotonous and regular.
