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Regarding the death of Jesus, there are three versions: 1. He was nailed to the cross and died of blood. 2. God caused Jesus and Judas to switch faces. It was Judas who died, and Jesus ascended to heaven in the flesh. 3. Jesus was hanged and burned in the destructive and filthy fire of hell, turning into ashes. Like her fellow believers, Wu Nai preaches the first version to people: Jesus was nailed to the cross, and his blood ran out and he died. He was resurrected on the 3rd day and ascended to heaven on the 40th day. But in her heart, she stubbornly believed in the second version: Jesus did not die, but Jesus ascended to heaven in the flesh. Because Jesus is a loving God, omnipotent, and will not suffer hardship, He should ascend to heaven floatingly. Wu Nai said: "Lord, I praise you." Wu Nai didn't know the third version, no one told her. If someone said it in front of her, Wu Nai would slap that person in the mouth.

That year, Meishun was 16 years old. If it hadn't been for a letter coming from home on the day of the New Year, it would have been time to get married in the spring. The younger generation is from Wowazi Village behind the mountain, and his name is Shuanzhu. We met once on a blind date, and they were real people. Thinking of him in the days that followed, Meishun became amused. She called Shuanzhu back in vain, and her daughter-in-law, who was almost there, was not tied up yet. Sometimes, a little sad. After receiving the letter that day, my parents took it to the village accountant to read it. After thinking about it, he would gather in the corner of the kang and chatter, chatter, chatter. When he saw Meishun, he would stop talking and talk nonsense.

It can be said that this is a grand narrative, in which war, plague, death, hatred, humanity, family affection... Are all included; however, this is also a small story, a story between a young carpenter and a small boss of a Japanese wood factory. They belong to hostile countries, but they have witnessed the endless beauty of human nature in the midst of disasters. Let a good novel bring a solemn baptism to your soul! In 1942, 16-year-old Wang Shuncai worked in Xingye Woodware Factory in Peking. That year, the Japanese secretly carried out bacteriological warfare and released viruses everywhere, causing cholera to become prevalent in the city of Peiping, which the common people called tiger fever and cholera. Once infected, it is difficult to cure with traditional Chinese medicine. Rich people can spend a lot of money to see Western medicine. If treated in time, they may be able to survive. It is difficult for the poor to put food on the table, so how can they afford to see Western medicine? All we can do is wait for death.

A girl's special destiny, a Beijing family's special marriage and special family affection. The story of Mei Shun and the Chang Sheng family is like the thin gurgling spring water from an inconspicuous spring. It is clear, crystal-clear, and full of strength. All dissatisfaction cannot destroy their self-respect. The novel is so light that there are few adjectives found in the entire text, but you can sense the ups and downs of the characters' fates and the twists and turns of the plot everywhere in the words, especially the details, which are like pearls throughout the whole novel, and you can see the brilliance of the narrative everywhere. After we have been obsessed with novel techniques and various attempts and explorations for a long time, we can't help but smile with relief when faced with such a work that removes all traces. It turns out that literature can also have such a different kind of beauty.