Wang Tiezhu thought he was probably crazy - one second he was losing his hair in front of the computer screen in a cubicle in the CBD, and the next second he was clutching his resignation letter, throwing the neon lights of the city behind his head, and heading back to Qingzhu Mountain, where his ancestors lived.
Reason? Hmm... Maybe the pie the boss drew was stronger than the wild boar in the mountains, but not as real as the wild boar; maybe the pressure on the mortgage was heavier than the old locust tree at the entrance of the village, but not as shaded as the locust tree; more likely, he was working overtime until early in the morning one day, staring at the moon outside the window and suddenly had an epiphany: if he continued like this, he might not live to receive his pension, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't be able to walk, and he wouldn't be able to go back to the mountains to see the azaleas in spring.
So, Wang Tiezhu, 28 years old, a former "senior" screwman of an Internet company, returned to Qingzhu Village, where he relied on roaring for mobile phone signals, waiting for online shopping and express delivery, and counting stars for entertainment at night, with a box of unopened instant noodles and a tragic feeling of "I'm quitting".
