When Grapes Are Ripe

The first time I met Zhang Wenliang, I followed my parents to the countryside to attend a funeral. Zhang Wenliang sat on the wall a few meters high, his thin and tall figure swaying back and forth with the leaves of the yellow apricot tree. He smiled wildly, and his unruly handsome face still could not block the heroic spirit and tenderness of the young man. Later I learned that that day was the funeral of his dead father. Intention: Wait for me to come to you