Gold Touching Order 1975

It's strange to say that not many people remember clearly what happened in those years. In 1975, I was thirteen years old. There was a heavy snowfall in the twelfth lunar month, covering the entire Funiu Mountain tightly. I huddled in the shack, listening to the wind blowing outside and making the branches rattle, and my stomach also made a sound. I haven't eaten a whole meal in three days. My name is Chen Shuisheng, and I have been foraging in these ravines for as long as I can remember. My parents died early. It is said that they went into the mountains to dig wild vegetables in 1958 and never came back. The people in the village took pity on me. My boss gave me a bowl of soup, and my west gave me a piece of steamed bread, so I survived like this. At the age of thirteen, I was already able to support myself—gathering herbs, collecting firewood, and digging out bird's nests. There was no job in the mountains that I couldn't do. That morning, at dawn, I went into the mountain with half a piece of steamed bread in my arms. It was difficult to walk in the snow, and one step would not reach my calves. I walked deeper along the ridge and wanted to try my luck at Yingchou Stream - it was shady and early in spring, so I might be able to dig up a few early-growing Bupleurum plants. By noon, I had finished eating the steamed buns, and my stomach started growling again. I rested against an old pine tree and suddenly smelled a scent. The smell was so strange that I couldn't tell what it was. It was like cooked corn or steamed sweet potatoes. It was sweet and glutinous, and it went into my nose as the wind blew. My stomach growled even more happily. I followed the scent and found it. After walking for about a pack of cigarettes, I saw a grave on a slope leeward from the wind. The tomb was quite old. Half of the tomb had collapsed and was covered with withered grass. There is a tree growing next to the grave that I have never seen before. It is short and squat.