Siheyuan: Fleeing Famine in 1948, I Reach the Capital at Eight

His stomach was as empty as if fire were burning inside, and his eyelids felt weighed down by a thousand-pound stone. When he woke, two small, sallow faces were leaning over him. Three- or four-year-old Xiao Hua timidly called him "Big Brother." The memories still hurt: the original owner had just died on the road while fleeing famine. His parents were gone, and now I had taken over this body. At eight years old, I had to shoulder the burden of feeding two mouths.