In 1962, Li Wangting, a young man from a courtyard house, lost his father to death at work and his mother fell ill from exhaustion, leaving me alone to guard two rooms. Yi Zhonghai and all the neighbors in the courtyard crowded in front of the Eight Immortals table and forced me to sign to allocate rooms. Yanbu Gui Liu Haizhong stared from left to right. I clutched the admission notice in my pocket - no one in this yard could touch the bricks left by my father.
