Tunnel War: My Cellar Leads to the Whole Village

There is a way to survive under the pot. The devil is coming. The iron pot at Li Shitou's house was opened by his mother. The bottom was not a vegetable cellar, but a tunnel that his father had dug for sixteen years. At first there was only enough room for a family to squat. Later, the whole village was connected under the pot platform - the grinding wheel of Aunt Liu's house, the old locust tree of Ergouzi's house, and the ruined temple at the entrance of the village. If you opened any piece of land, there would be roads underneath. Later, the tunnels in seven villages were connected together. Pickles from Gaozhuang, dried dates from Zaozhuang, and coarse salt from Wangzhuang are marketed underground. The earthen telephone changed from a wire to a net. Cui'er sat at the central station, and the voices of seven villages were received and sent at the same time. The Japanese have gun towers, listening devices, and poisonous gas. But there are flaps, lime cloth, and back-excavating shovels underground. The turrets were blown up three times, and the tunnels were flooded, smoked, and gassed - they were not broken. This is not a heroic story. It is a story of one village, one shovel of soil, and one life. The pot was lifted, and the wind was still blowing underneath. The tunnel is still open.