On the first day of the Republic of China, my mother died.
She dug a hole with her hands to bury her mother, wiped away the blood and stood up.
Someone asked her where she was going. She said, learn to make cannonballs.
She later made eight hundred and seventy-two grenades. The candy seller's grandfather died, the big man who carried the supplies died, and Cui'er who saved the candy for her also died.
The enemy was blown over. But standing in the cheering crowd, she suddenly wanted to ask:
"Did you see it?"
Fourteen years later, no one remembers her name.
But she remembers everyone.
