The love story between father and mother first sprouted in an ordinary flour mill in Northeast China. It was 1971. The wave of people going to the mountains and countryside was in full swing. Young people were assigned to various factories and rural areas for training. They also met in that time and space. My father was just nineteen years old that year. He was handsome and thin, with a stubborn and firm look in his eyes. My mother was only seventeen years old, pretty and delicate, with a reserved yet energetic personality. They are often busy in the same workshop, one is responsible for pulling goods and carrying heavy sacks, and the other carefully organizes inventory management accounts. The days flow slowly with sweat and laughter. Gradually, this simple and sincere feeling took root and sprouted little by little in ordinary labor.
They grow from youth to maturity, face the joys, sorrows and joys of life together, and witness the earth-shaking changes of the times together. From youth to gray hair, they went through fifty-three long years, and it was not until their father passed away that they were forced to come to an end. This book is an affectionate memorial written by me to my father. It not only carries my thoughts, but also expresses my respect. At the same time, I would like to take this opportunity to praise those young people who grew up in the turbulent 1970s. They bravely embraced the opportunities brought by the reform and opening up in the 1980s, tried new things with a fearless attitude, created results with diligence and wisdom, injected strength into the development of the country, and lit up hope for countless families.
Purpose: True story, in memory of my father
