Xia Shidong was taken to a remote northern village in a snowy December, and his eyes were filled with endless white. That was the first time he saw snow for real. From then on, it was always winter in the vast whiteness.
The sunlight falling on the snow stings people's eyes, but the color is so pure that it sucks people's soul in.
The white snowdrifts are like tombs. Summer and winter like to bury themselves in the snow.
Chen Shu dug him out from the snowdrift again and again, carried him home and put him on the kang.
Xia Shidong's soul is buried in the snow, and Chen Shu's soul is in him.
When Xia Shidong left the humid city where he was born, nothing in this world belonged to him. Except Chen Shu.
Chen Shu gave him many things and told him that these are yours. ——That's your calf. All the animals in the house belong to you. Your dishes and chopsticks are only for your own use. I am your tree.
On a summer afternoon, Xia Shidong leaned against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. The wind gently passed through his body and brushed his face, and light spots fell on his eyes.
At that time, he thought that if there was only one thing in this world that could belong to him, then only his tree would be his tree in summer and winter.
It's a northern story from the old days, and it will be opened again in a while.
Intention: Grow tenaciously.
