Zhao Qi knelt in front of a new grave in the back hill of Lijia Village in Yongcheng, digging his fingertips into the frozen soil. He had not eaten for two days. When Li Yaner stuffed him with half a piece of cake, his eyes were so dry that he heard a crisp sound in the wind - a pop-up window lit up in his head, and the reminder to join the army was stuck on the threshold of seventeen years old. He stood up holding the roots of the grass and said hoarsely to the back of the little girl who was jumping with hot buns: "Yan'er, put the embroidered shoes away, and I will buy you a new pair when I come back from Xianyang."
