This is a story that takes place in a remote village in Jiujiang, Jiangxi.
In the early 1980s, in the hills of northern Jiangxi, rice fields spread out into the distance like green terraces. The water vapor of Poyang Lake nourishes this land, but it cannot wash away the deep-rooted concept in people's bones - to have a son and spread the incense.
There is a place called Hetang Village in the countryside of Jiujiang. The village is not big, with about a hundred households, and is surrounded by mountains and water. Under the old camphor tree at the entrance of the village, a group of mothers and daughters-in-law gathered all year round to enjoy the cool air and chat. They chewed on their family and friends, and stared at the bellies of their families. When a family gave birth to a son, they would congratulate it with smiles on their faces; when a family added a daughter, they would exchange meaningful glances and say, "It's okay for a daughter," but there was unconcealable gloating in their tone.
