The Old Home by the Stone Bridge

My hometown is Shiqiao. Its name, meaning “Stone Bridge,” came from the stone-paved paths made of rough slabs laid across the gullies. In my childhood, it was a paradise no less wonderful than the Hundred-Grass Garden, but it also held countless memories that gripped my childhood like nightmares. In spring, I went riding without knowing the lay of the land and nearly got lost among the trees. In summer, I went swimming without knowing how, and nearly drowned in the creek. In winter, I herded sheep without knowing the terrain, and nearly sank into the mud, with the earth for my bed. In autumn, I went out to sea without understanding its moods, and nearly went down with my boat to feed the fish. Wen Tianxiang wrote, “I do not know how many times I have come close to death.” I had already experienced that as a child. Tao Yuanming wrote, “Some relatives may mourn me, while others have already begun to sing. What is there to say of death? I shall rest my body among the hills.” Life and death are unpredictable. “The moss flower, though as small as a grain of rice,” still finds “its own spring” in “places the sunlight never reaches.” A life so young is no different from a grain of rice, yet spring comes all the same. I can't help but sigh, so I have written this down to comfort my heart as it grows older, having gained so much and left so much behind. Through a realistic portrayal of the changes in my hometown of Shiqiao, this novel depicts the local customs and everyday life of Huibei in Quannan. It highlights the history of hardship, ignorance, and self-reliant development in the hometown, and reveals the complex nature of the people of Shiqiao: resilient and strong, quick to band together and fight, yet also prone to internal strife and needless competition. It also portrays the bold, openhearted, hospitable people of the coast, who stand firm for justice. The novel expresses both nostalgia for a lost hometown and gratitude for a hard-won new life.