Walk Against the Snow to Protect My Fellow Villagers

In Mozi Village at the foot of Daxing Mountains, Liu Yaodong slowly woke up on the earthen bed, with soft sunlight shining through the window paper into the house. The old wooden tables, mottled earthen walls, and urala grass stuffed in the cracks of the walls are all familiar looks from the past. He was shocked, as if he had returned to the past. He hurriedly opened the quilt and stood up. Suddenly there was a soft sound, and the needles and threads in the basket were scattered on the floor. The peaceful days turned a new page.