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It was during that raging summer that Shi Hangsheng and I turned against each other. As the son of a martyr, he was elected as the small leader of the Red Guards in the middle school. At first I thought he couldn't help it, but later I realized something was wrong. He fell in love with this kind of happy life. I didn't mention him when I called the Peking Opera master Gai Tianjia, and I didn't mention him when I called him the Rong family in the electrical appliance store. I don't understand the former; the latter often showed off in front of us when we were children. I think it's no big deal for his family to suffer a little in the red storm. Unexpectedly, they implicated Zirong's uncle Zhou Ke, the enlightened gentleman in our childhood, so I had to go to him to negotiate. Shocking slogans and big-character posters covered the walls of all the streets. People crowded in front of the newspaper offices, and confused flies whirled and danced on the heads of men, women, old and young, making a buzzing noise. The horn is blaring.

The novel takes the historical mood of "that year of war" as the main line, describing the life experiences and fate of several "Vietnam War" veterans such as Chen Chunsheng and Huang Huchen. It uses the huge contrast between war and peace to reveal the taste of life in different periods. It is a mixed and emotional read. Chen Chunsheng is a city dweller, but he always exudes a mixed smell of hay and cow dung. This smell seems to have been rubbed into his skin. When I see him, the cowshed that is often cleaned when I jump in line will appear in front of me. I guess that when he was eight years old, he was taken away by someone wearing a red sleeve, and maybe he was locked up for a long time in a dark room where cows were raised. But I never dared to ask him, for fear of triggering his unbearable childhood memories. I remember that when I arrived at that ancient city by the Yangtze River, he had already been released and returned home for a week.

The little tiger and his mother finished eating the steamed buns and left Tianjin Wei. They walked across the high overpass of the West Station, stumbling. A city slowly disappeared behind them, like a mirage, a fragile and unreal dream. Their stomachs filled with cornmeal steamed buns and rye noodles will prepare them for the coming famine. At a time when people are hungry all over the world, there are many people in Anhui countryside who eat Guanyin soil and peel off the bark of trees. Less than a month after they left, the mother, her second son, her youngest daughter and her youngest son also boarded the train returning south. Tianjin is a big city and Hangzhou is a medium-sized city. It is easier to transfer the household registration from Tianjin back to Hangzhou than from Hangzhou to Tianjin. The mother was also holding Liu Nan's daughter Xiaonan in her arms. The child left her parents before she was even one year old. The train went back from station to station, and they were thinking about their own thoughts amidst the sound of the train.

At noon in the summer, the courtyard was quiet, and the security guard in the guard room was dozing on the table. Bai Jianming supported his mother and walked in slowly. Wang Lin, secretary of the Urban Management Office, was half asleep when she heard a knock on the window. She opened her eyes and was startled. She had seen the man knocking on the window and had come to collect a penalty notice a few days ago. But this old lady made her feel panicked. The scorching sun burned her old and frail body, and sweat dripped from her pale face, soaking half of her clothes. She raised her hand, pointed at Wang Lin and said, Girl, did you ask me to come? The old man's red hands were protruding with veins, and his stiff and bony fingers seemed to be touching Wang Lin's face through the glass. Wang Lin trembled for a moment, and then ran out to help the old lady as if she had just woken up from a dream. During the meeting yesterday, the director just said that there has been too much negative news about the urban management department in society recently, and he asked everyone to pay more attention to the "window image."