In the winter of 1986, when fourteen-year-old Chen Mo woke up, there was a warehouse system beside his pillow. The system is full of old materials: military coats, fertilizers, hardware parts... Everything can be exchanged for survival money in the cracks of the planned economy. But the exchange comes with a price, the memory of his past life. When mother Lin Shufen found the gun in the attic, her hands were shaking so much that she couldn't hold the kitchen knife. Chen Mo wiped the barrel of the gun and said, "Mom, this can be exchanged for three hundred pounds of meat coupons." On that snowy night, a teenager used a gun to pry open the entire spring of 1987. My father was about to be laid off. Farmers in the southern suburbs were waiting for spring plowing, and the dealers in the county were eyeing his goods. Chen Mo was stocking up on supplies while going to school, trading fertilizers for food, fabrics for channels, and repair parts for favors. The more he uses the system, the more things he forgets, such as the tofu noodles in the university cafeteria, his grandmother's face, and his mother's birthday. Until he found out the source of the system: In 1985, a warehouse manager named Zhou Jianguo from the Provincial Materials Bureau hid a batch of "mismatched" materials somewhere before closing the warehouse. The report letter was not sent and the whereabouts of the person are unknown. Twelve years, from one snowy night to another. The most expensive thing Chen Mo ever exchanged was not meat tickets or food, but the version of himself that would never come back.
Intention: The shelf life of some things is longer than the times. Keep what should be kept. One day, it will become the road under the feet of others.