The sound of a hoe hitting the soil is particularly clear in the mountain village.
I straightened up, wiped the sweat from my forehead, and looked at the neatly plowed vegetable beds in half an acre of land. I felt a rare sense of peace in my heart. When I first moved here three years ago, this yard was so barren that not even a single root of grass could grow. Now I can grow some vegetables and radishes, which is enough for me to be self-sufficient.
The setting sun dyed half of the sky red, and the wind in the mountains carried the smell of vegetation, a hundred times stronger than the perfume in the city.
I was about to call it a day and go back home when my phone rang.
That was the old number I used when I was in the Longyuan Army. After I retired, almost no one called it. I frowned and took it out of my pocket. It was an unfamiliar number, and the address showed it was Shancheng.
