The history books say "There was a great famine in the 14th year of Chongzhen", which overshadowed the day and night suffering of tens of millions of people. Now that I am actually in it, I know that behind the words "people eat each other" is the mother's trembling when hiding the last half of the bark, and the despair in the child's eyes looking at the stove's dead silence. In this hell that has been lightly ignored by history, the only thing I, a modern person, can do is to try my best to keep the "numbers" around me alive - even surviving for one more day is the heaviest comment on that light page of history.
