Summer, 1970.
The adobe house was stifling, and the cicadas' cries made his head throb.
In his early twenties, Zhang Yu clutched his crumpled work-point tickets. He worked himself to the bone for the production team, yet earned less than thirty cents a day.
His parents had died young, and he had nothing. After much difficulty, he had gotten engaged to Liu Ruyan, but scraping together the bride price had been a struggle, and now the engagement looked like it was about to fall through.
Poor.
So poor he couldn't hold his head up.
He had just let out a sigh when a shrill voice burst from outside the courtyard gate: "Zhang Yu, I'm calling off the wedding!
You're so poor you can't afford a thing. If I marry you, I'll be living on thin air!"
