On Shen Yuan's eighteenth birthday, she received two things.
It was also a chicken cake that was about to expire, given by the proprietress of the canteen at the entrance of the village. The other thing is the wooden box left by my adoptive father, Grandpa Jiang.
The box was made of elm wood. Before leaving, Grandpa Jiang placed it under the threshold of the paper shop and wrapped it three layers in red cloth. The day the old man died, he held her hand, moved his lips for a long time, and only said four words:
"Open again when you're eighteen."
She is eighteen now.
