Siheyuan: Spring 1953, A Martyr's Letter Arrives in the Village

In the bitter chill of early spring, I was lying on the ground watching ants when the village chief shouted at me to get up. The original owner was the village's little miracle doctor, whose parents hadn't sent a letter home in six months. Then someone came from the county with a piece of paper saying my parents had died on the battlefield. I took over this body after the original owner fell off a cliff while gathering herbs. Tears fell onto the concrete floor, and I hadn't even learned my way around this courtyard yet. First, I'd hold on tight to that certificate and find a way to keep us going.