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For five thousand years, a beautiful myth has been circulating here, called Yi shooting for nine days. "Huainanzi", the oldest book in China, records: "In the time of Yao, ten suns came out simultaneously, scorching crops, killing vegetation, and leaving the people without food. Yi raised his head and shot down nine suns. All the people were happy and made Yao the emperor." Legend has it that the sun Yi shot down fell in the Shangdang Basin on the west side of the Taihang Mountains, and turned into the vast Qinshui coal field. This is the hometown of coal, and the people here are all descendants of coal. They mine light and heat day and night, holding rounds of the sun in their hands. "We mine the sun." The minds of coal diggers are connected with the story of Yi She nine days. Yi She nine days created the conditions for human survival. Coal diggers provide energy and raw materials for people to live a better life, so they are called "people who mine the sun."

A few years ago, Chinese society began to undergo tremendous changes. Enterprises were restructured and a wave of layoffs swept across the country. Ten or twenty years have passed now, time has changed, and everything I experienced back then has long been forgotten. But the tearing, the pain, the panic and twitching, the fluttering of the flesh in the soul can never be erased, and it is still reflected in the dreams of many people at midnight. What Ding Bogang's "No. 3 Xieling Road" wants to express is the trauma and humiliation experienced by many so-called laid-off workers when they were thrown out of the shelter of the system at the beginning of the corporate restructuring that was sweeping across the country. It shows the trauma and humiliation experienced by infants when facing this strange and hard world. It expresses the sharp, bone-gnawing physical pain and spiritual pain that countless weak individuals endured when they were helpless and struggling under the pressure of the great wheel of the times. The pain of flesh and blood before the blade, the pain of eggs before the stone. Ding Bogang, born in 1961, originally from Huaining, Anhui Province, immigrated to Xiushui County, Jiangxi Province in 1977. In magazines such as Harvest, Contemporary, Zhongshan, Shanghai Literature, and Chinese Writers, he has published the novel "Who Do I Dare to Rely on" and the novella "Heaven's Kill", "Heaven's Questions", "Pauline's Lamp", "Someone Will Return", "Sunset Low Hanging", "Two Acres of Land", "Ma Xiaokang", "Ai Peng Goes Home", etc.

By chance, I focused on the underworld. On January 24, 1966, I was born in a remote village. My father was a sick retired soldier who passed away when I was eight years old, leaving my mother alone to take care of the four siblings. After graduating from junior high school, I dropped out of school due to family difficulties and went home to work in farming. When he was eighteen years old, he was taken care of by the government and worked in the town government. Later I also served as the director of a rural enterprise. It wasn't until the year I was preparing to run for the position of Secretary of the Township Youth League Committee that I suddenly felt that my world view had changed. To be precise, it was due to an accidental incident in 1993, when I was twenty-seven years old. His younger brother Gao Zhixiang brought a group of friends to the house to gamble and drink.

The author uses a financial concept to show a panoramic view of modern Chinese dream-like financial life, and tells a legendary story about private capital - it is hidden among the people, its rules have been passed down for thousands of years, and it has huge and tempting energy.

He was seventeen years old and in high school. Their school is a famous school in the province. It is said that it is one of the first Western-style schools in China and a middle school founded in the 31st year of Guangxu's reign. I also heard that among the graduates of their school, there are several faculty members and several working in Beijing. Some of them often visit Zhongnanhai and even accompany Chairman Mao and Premier Zhou to meet foreign guests. Once, an alumnus returned to his alma mater for an inspection, and a guard was posted on the street. The teaching level of their school is hard to say, and the teachers are all top-notch teachers. For example, their Chinese teacher was originally from Nanjing University. Did you know that Nanjing University was called Central University before liberation. Something happened in 1957 and he was transferred to a primary school in a mountainous area. Their principal went through a lot of trouble to get him to the school.

Jiang Laosan skillfully chiseled Ruyi Zhan, a smart boy who was eager to learn and met a good teacher. The story happened during the Jiajing period of the Ming Dynasty. There was a Jiangjiaji in Guazhou. There lived a family of stonemason named Jiang Laosan. His wife was Yang, and they also had a young son named Jiang Yan. During this year of making a living by chiseling stones, Jiang Laosan was overjoyed when he got a piece of flawless white jade. He looked at it carefully, and the more he looked at it, the more he loved it. He thought: If this thing was carved into an object, wouldn't it be more beautiful? What are you carving? He thought about it and decided to carve a wine cup. After countless sleepless nights and months of greeting the setting sun, the old stonemason finally chiseled the shape of the wine cup successfully. Then he used all his skills and carved two dragons flying in the clouds and mist into the wine cup, with a small bright red pearl in the middle.

I was born on the 15th day of the third lunar month in 1933 in Suoli Town, Gancheng County, Hunan Province, which is now the main urban area of ​​Jishou City, the capital of the Xiangxi Tujia and Miao Autonomous Prefecture in Hunan Province. Although I have left my hometown to work and live in the north for sixty years, my local accent is hard to change. I speak Mandarin that is both spicy from Hunan and vinegary from Shanxi. People often hear my accent and ask me where I am from. I answered that I was from Xiangxi, and the other party said: "Ah! I see, it's the place where bandits are found." Some people even jokingly added: "You are not a bandit, are you?" In fact, this is a misunderstanding, which was influenced by film and television dramas such as "The Suppression of Bandits in Western Hunan", "The Suppression of Bandits in Wulong Mountain" and "Once Upon a Time in Western Hunan" that were released continuously in the 1990s. The bandits described in these film and television dramas are not bandits in the traditional sense.

The medical staff include Chinese and Nigerians, and everyone thinks he is his brother Huisong. The sign HUISONG hangs on the bedside in English. His brother was killed, and he was extremely sad that he had nothing to eat. Others thought he was sad to lose his younger brother, so they repeatedly tried to persuade him and told him that the country would give him a large amount of compensation for his younger brother. I closed my eyes and kept crying, but I was thinking in my mind that my brother was a middle-level cadre with a high salary and could earn 90,000 US dollars a year, which was not counting the salary in China. As for work ability, that's all. At worst, if I work here for a few more years, my level will catch up with my brother's. How to deal with my sister-in-law? I kept beating in my heart. My sister-in-law used to work at a bank counter and was laid off at the age of thirty. Her niece is only four years old. Her brother's pension and funeral expenses must be much higher than hers. If she takes it seriously, she will be in trouble. What if I married my sister-in-law?

You are involved in many fraud cases. Now, come with us. The policeman said expressionlessly. The police escorted Zhu Zhijun out. Zhu Zhijun desperately turned his head to look at Zhu Liugen, stumbling like a drunken man. Everyone in the exhibition hall was bewildered by this scene. They stared blankly at the police and Zhu Zhijun. It took them a while to react. Some people say, isn't that the young hero Zhu Zhijun? What happened to him being fucked by the police? Someone said, Hey, I saw it from the Internet. Someone reported on the Internet that he used his identity as an earthquake hero to defraud people of hundreds of thousands of money. It seems that this is true.

"Ni Huanzhi" is the author's only full-length novel. Based on the primary school teacher Ni Huanzhi, the novel typically describes the pursuit and disillusionment of some intellectuals from the Revolution of 1911 to the failure of the Great Revolution in 1927. It reflects the tortuous and difficult road traveled by China's petty bourgeois intellectuals who demand revolution. Ni Huanzhi is a young intellectual who yearns for revolution. He was enthusiastic and ideal during the Revolution of 1911. After the baptism of the May Fourth Movement, he embarked on the path of reformism. He wanted to use education to transform society and save the nation, but his ambition could only end in disillusionment. At the same time, a new love life and family life are also aspects of his pursuit. His love is happy and beautiful, but his marriage is confusing. Although under the influence of the revolutionary Wang Leshan, he participated in some practical struggles, he finally died of pessimism and despair after the failure of the great revolution.

This book is an inspirational novel for women in the workplace. The whole book revolves around the female lead Shi Qingyan's job changes year by year after graduating from college. It focuses on Shi Qingyan's work experience and the hardships of starting a business due to emotional frustration. It also intersperses with her best friend Xiaomei's full support and help, and her subsequent relationship with her two boyfriends. By narrating the protagonist's life experiences and choices over more than ten years, this book can see the positive power of new women in the new era. Its magnificent story even makes many male entrepreneurs marvel. It has certain reference significance for the younger generation who want to start a business. It can also help readers reflect on themselves and dismantle some inherent thinking concepts, so that success is no longer far away and entrepreneurship is no longer unattainable.

There is a saying in China that the rafters that stand out will die first. However, as a prominent family in the south of the Yangtze River, the Li family stepped forward at every critical moment in history, making their own family voice and shouldering the obligations and responsibilities of a big family. The protagonist of the novel, Li Mutao, the third eldest son of the Li family and the former boss of Shanghai's "Youth Gang", organized his own army to support Mr. Sun Yat-sen during the Revolution of 1911. When the Japanese army captured Shanghai and Nanjing, he organized an anti-enemy rescue team to deliver supplies to the soldiers on the front line... Despite experiencing numerous setbacks and confusion, and being extremely disappointed with the Kuomintang's inaction, Li Mutao did not give up his ideals and ambitions to revitalize the Chinese nation, and instead embarked on the road of industrial salvation. In this work, what we see is the unyielding backbone of a family, the patriotic passion of Li Mutao and others, and the firm belief in the great rejuvenation of our nation!

This book contains five articles by the famous French historian, critic, and novelist Moaro discussing life issues, translated by the famous translator Fu Lei. One is a novel - "Love and Sacrifice", which tells the story of Goethe writing "The Sorrows of Young Werther", and four are reviews - "On Marriage", "On Parents and Children", "On Friendship" and "On Happiness". These words are very inspiring for today's readers to think about life, love and marriage.

This book is part of the "Republic of China Interesting Reading" series, which is a series of books carefully created by China Literature and History Publishing House to popularize the CPPCC's cultural and historical materials and publicize the CPPCC's cultural and historical work. This is one of a series of books, a collection of texts recalling Nankai University during the Republic of China. The authors are all great figures from the Republic of China, such as Hu Shi, Chen Shengshen, Wang Duanxun, Dai Jiaxiang, Wu Dayou, etc. These great figures from the Republic of China told anecdotes about the classes, the demeanor of famous teachers, and club activities at Nankai University during the Republic of China... The fragments of essays and a few words vividly reproduced the bygone past on the old Nankai campus.

Departing at 4:25 pm on July 25, 1985, I took a civil aviation Duyin 707 flight from Beijing to Chengdu. The journey was sunny and windy, but as I entered Sichuan, clouds and fog began to form. When I arrived in the sky above Chengdu, there was already a thick fog outside the window, which seemed to be rolling towards the plane with countless traps. I was panicking and secretly prayed for the Buddha's blessing. The plane seemed to be spiraling down, then finally took off twice and landed. Several foreigners clapped their hands, but the Chinese just heaved a sigh of relief. The road from the airport into the city is lush and green, with snacks along the way. After getting off the bus, it took a lot of trouble to find a place to stay. When you asked for directions, you were given random directions. The tricycle driver followed you all the way on an open tricycle, speaking Chengdu dialect with a heavy drawl, ranging from enthusiasm to sarcasm. We were unfazed and in a good mood. The bus stop sign is very high. The girls on the street are just scenery.

As the Lantern Festival is approaching, the Wuma Street area slowly becomes lively. Wuma Street is the only street in Ou that can hold a market. It is connected in all directions, with Shuicang Lane, Fuqian Street, and Sigu Bridge in front, Dati Lane and Zhuangyuan Lane in the back, Chengliang Bridge on the left, and Xima Bridge on the right. Because of the intersection of several roads, this place was designated by the government as a market, making it convenient for gathering and distribution. The market was spontaneous among the people, and the government played a leading role. In those days, not only familiar people showed up, but also more and more new people appeared. These familiar people came from all directions, even from the countryside. In those days, the streets and the people on both sides slowly started to move. They were preparing to welcome this festival with a new attitude.

The Beijing-Shanghai Railway goes south and crosses the Huaihe River. After six or seven small stations, it enters the Jianghuai hills from the flatland. The first mountain we encountered was called Shimen Mountain. The mountain is not big, with a radius of about 20 to 30 kilometers. The name of this mountain has its origin. It is said that there are some treasures in the mountain, but only a lucky person who has ten sons from one mother can find the mountain gate and get the gold and silver. One year, a family at the foot of the mountain gave birth to nine sons. In order to make up for ten, they went into the mountains to hunt for treasures, so they adopted a son. One day, there was a woman wandering in the mountains, muttering something: The mountain god opened the door, and the mother of ten sons came looking for treasure. The woman rose from the sun and found that it was noon. The sun was setting in the west. She was hungry, thirsty, tired and exhausted, so she leaned on the trunk of a masson pine tree, planning to take a rest and go home.

"Lingxia" is the name of a village. Lingxia Village was later renamed Lingxia Brigade - when this story first began, it was called Lingxia Brigade. Why is Lingxia called Lingxia? Just because there is a "ling" to the west of it - a good plain, a swollen piece to the west of the group under the mausoleum - it is not a mountain. After all, a mountain has some edges and corners, peaks, or ridges. This "mausoleum" is not just a gentle bulge. If we compare women's breasts, they are not like those of Western women, which are outrageously high, nor are they like Chinese virgins, which are small and delicate. It is really like a peasant woman's breast, sucking milk, soft and tired, but fertile and juicy, the cradle of life. There are few rocks on the mausoleum, many grasses, and there are also trees; the trees are locust trees. In spring, the mausoleum is bright green and full of grass.

She was transformed into a female spy by the anti-Japanese organization, and her legendary life began. But no matter how legendary the years are, peeled off piece by piece, they are just the most ordinary joys, sorrows and joys in life. 1 She arrived early, and there were not many diners in the restaurant yet. The waiter put down a pot of tea and hurried downstairs. This restaurant called Dahua Restaurant is located on the bustling Zhengtai Street. It is small in scale but packed with customers. Mr. Qiu mostly chooses secluded places to make appointments with her. This time was an exception. When we last met, she accidentally said that she hadn't eaten fish for a long time. Mr. Qiu immediately promised that next time we would eat fish. Dahua Restaurant has a signature dish called "One Fish, Three Eats", which is a fresh and plump freshwater fish, separated along the spine and divided into three parts.

I had a dream when I was young. In my distant past life, I was a young general who died on the battlefield in the west. The strange thing is that I have had this dream many times. The scene was neither very clear nor blurry. It was on a Gobi desert, with thousands of troops and horses fighting together. I rode a dark-colored war horse, held a spear, and led the soldiers to charge here and there. In the end, I was the only one left, surrounded by enemies. Although he fought hard, he still couldn't break out, and was finally shot and fell from his horse. And he was shot twice in the stomach, left and right. I didn't feel any pain, I just fell to the ground like cotton. The moment I fell from my horse, I saw corpses scattered everywhere. Then a strong wind passed by, and the land became empty, leaving me lying there alone, with the dark horse still guarding me... Obviously, this was a heroic dream. I don't know whether it's because I was particularly fond of frontier poems when I was young, or because my hometown of Xuzhou is an ancient battlefield, and the memory of the war is integrated into every young man's blood.

Chen Jiu will never leave this year. He made up his mind to grow watermelons in his three-thirds of an acre of land. Although the sound of firecrackers can still be heard sparsely, the red confetti on the ground is like plum blossoms blooming in the snow, the pungent smell of sulfur still lingers in the air, and the Dafu characters on the door are still dazzling and bright, these migrant workers who have been away all year round have already begun to take action. They were happily dragging trolley cases like scooters, crashing, crashing, crashing, leaving messy footprints and fine marks on the snow, intertwined and intertwined, turning the red plums in the snow into dead flowers and willows. According to the saying in the countryside, as long as February 2nd is not out, it is a new year, but who can be patient? Their restless hearts have long since landed on the telegraph poles in the city like little birds.

The flower girl, with her big belly, shook the branches to drive away the locusts in the field. The bean sprouts were trampled with a crackling sound. They were driven out from the east and driven out from the west. One group flew away and another group came back. There were always endless locusts to chase away. She opened her arms, her feet were pricked with blood, and the sweat on her body was washed away by water. The branches could no longer shake and the feet could no longer be lifted. She lay down in the bean tree and gave birth to her son. Huage's family name is Liu, and he is a fur trader who travels to the countryside. He collects sheepskins, cowhide, donkey skins and dog skins according to size. When it's done, stack the bundles and carry them back. After processing, the cooked leather is pushed on a red cart to the Hongshi Wharf in the town and sold to fur traders from other provinces. It's hot and it's not the season for cooked leather goods, so go to the market and set up a Gua Gua stall, choose a fluttering guise, and fool Lu Xing into Bagua. When the woman gave birth to her son, Liu Mazi was chasing away locusts in another field. Hearing the cry of the baby, he ran over.

This issue launches a novella by Lu 18 Zhang Zuwen. Zuwen, who worked in Tibet after graduating from university, made a great impact by creating "Tibetan-style novels". The connotation of the concept of "Tibetan-style novels" is defined by Zu Wen as "a kind of alien writing on the edge of Tibet, which mainly reflects the thoughts and living conditions of people from the mainland and Tibetan people who have been influenced by thousands of years of Buddhism when they face the integration of modern civilization." Critics believe that Zuwen's "Tibetan-style novels" have a distinctive personal style in narrative. First, the narrative of the novel is embodied as a "multilateral narrative". Unlike many ethnic minority writers whose works lack narration of "others" who are not from our ethnic group, simplifying or limiting the narration of "others", the narratives of Zuwen novels have both Tibetan and Han perspectives, which expands the capacity of their novels and generates connotative tension. Secondly, the narrative of the work presents a "double narrative".

As soon as the twelfth lunar month enters, the New Year atmosphere in the county comes out. The streets were bustling with people and there was a lot of noise everywhere. God seemed to hate this dirty face in the world, so he quickly dropped a heavy snowfall. For a time, the whole earth turned white as far as the eye could see, just like a gaudy woman who showed a bit of simplicity after being in mourning. After waking up in the morning, Li Jiguang, the leader of the county theater troupe, felt that his head was a little heavy and he felt a slight fever when he touched his forehead. He regretted that he should not have "dominated" with his wife at night. It was funny to him when he thought that the people in the group called the thing between husband and wife being overbearing. I remember when I was in the army, the veterans laughed at the cadres and their family members who came to the army for doing that thing at night, calling it "exercise". Li Jiguang said that this is called staying true to one's profession.

The wonderful life fragments of the two lovely old men are like ever-changing clouds in the sky above the town. Sometimes they are as thin as cicada wings, rippling in the spring breeze; They are always reflected in the blue sky of the town. No matter it is windy or rainy, or spring comes and winter goes, they are still lifelike, vivid, still touching, inspiring and unforgettable.

Just as Lao Hu comforted Shan Hu with a few words, two motorcycles with their headlights on had already rushed straight into the bridge opening from the high slope in the south, with a terrifying momentum. Shanhu was frightened, his body was shaking uncontrollably, and he said incoherently, Brother Scar and the others... Bad guys... Lao Hu hugged Shanhu hard in his arms, hugged him, and then supported him against the wall. He said, don't be afraid, stay here and don't move! At this time, the motorcycle was already in front of him. Old Hu turned around and couldn't see anything clearly for a moment in the dazzling car lights. He subconsciously raised his hand to block his forehead, and then he vaguely saw a total of four people sitting on the two motorcycles. Lao Hu couldn't see their faces clearly at this time, only their outlines. They were like devils coming out of the darkness, standing between the shadow of the lamp and the darkness, half-light and half-dark, half-human and half-ghost. Two people sitting on the back seat of the motorcycle got out of the car and pressed towards Lao Hu step by step.

In this world, disaster can happen at any time. "Two Separations" writes about the relationship between people and disasters. In a sense, disasters will never end. After they happen, they will survive with the living people, dragging the experiencers of the disaster with complicated tentacles, parasitizing them, and parasitizing the discourse logic and psychological logic of the experiencers. There are countless literary works reflecting disasters, but there don't seem to be many impressive ones. What's the problem? This reminds me of what the famous poet Adam Zagajewski said, "I try to praise this incomplete world." I finally understand that the most basic point is that we must have the compassionate attitude and feelings of a great poet.

Wu Haizhong was born on June 12, 1968 in Lishu, Jilin. Editor of Lishu Literary Federation. He has published short stories and short stories in publications such as "Kanto Writers" and "Mountain Flowers". There are three collections of short stories and short stories, "Human Face Peach Blossom", a collection of critical essays, "Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Wisdom of Proverbs", and a novel, "Power". Member of Jilin Provincial Writers Association and member of China Democratic League. Now lives in Guiyang, Guizhou. The first heavy frost in autumn turned our Liqiao white. It started to dye as soon as the moon came out, and it was a cool white under the moonlight. It was a sunny day when I woke up early. The villages, woods, and fields outside were all white. Everything was white, and the sky was all gray. The sun is very bright, the morning glow is very bright, and the sky in the east is extremely red.

Third Master and Ma Datou each spent a different night. As soon as it got light on the next morning, Sanye and Ma Datou set out on the road. At this time, the morning light slowly opened up in the mist, the mountain ridges were arranged quietly like tombs, and the mountain roads were lingeringly attached to the mountains like gray ribbons. The third master is in front. The third master's hand is holding a rein, and the end of the rein is tied to the head of the little black donkey. Behind the little black donkey is a wooden wheel cart, and the cart is naturally the big head of the horse. People and donkeys and carts move around at ease. The cart's axle was fully oiled last night, and the wooden wheel turned slowly. Both of them changed into black clothes and trousers that were starched to white. Every step they took made a "squeaking" sound, which was very rhythmic. At this time, the sunlight gradually became brighter, the fog quickly dispersed, and the autumn dew blinked brighter and brighter on the withered grass blades.

That year, my sister Hua'er was eighteen years old. An eighteenth girl is like a flower, not to mention she is indeed beautiful. But being beautiful has troubles. Not only does his sister have it, but his younger brother Niu'er also helps his sister to have it. He has always found it strange, wondering where the silly fifth brother learned it from, "oval face, red phoenix eyes, willow eyebrows, lips that are neither thin nor thick, mouth that is neither big nor small, the lines of the bridge of the nose are even and soft, and the tip of the nose is slightly upturned." The silly fifth brother often chases behind his sister's butt and nags, sometimes even drooling out. Everyone knew that this was a compliment to her sister Hua'er. If it had been said from another person's mouth, Hua'er wouldn't know how happy she would be, but it happened to come out of Silly Lao Wu's mouth while drooling, and Hua'er felt particularly shameless.

China's giant ship rides the wind and waves and makes great progress. In just sixty years, it has stood among the world's powerful countries and has become a great miracle in the history of human civilization. Chinese literature is surging and flourishing, with diverse schools and masterpieces by famous writers, which also attract the attention of the world. In order to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China, our publishing house launched the large-scale literary project of the "Republican Writers Library", striving to include representative works of important contemporary writers with widespread influence, using Chinese style, Chinese style and the people's stand on literary values ​​to show the peaceful rise, historical process, social changes and realistic pictures of the ancient Eastern civilization, and to express the Chinese nation's arduous pursuit, brave practice, innovative ideas and survival wisdom. This collection of libraries is not only a microcosm of the flourishing Chinese literary cause, but also a grand event in China's publishing industry during its vibrant transition period. Its literary value and social significance will become increasingly apparent as time goes by. We also believe that China's literary career will become more prosperous and more splendid along with the great and prosperous motherland. We sincerely thank the relevant departments of the Propaganda Department of the CPC Central Committee, the Chinese Writers Association and the vast number of writers and literary criticism experts across the country for their strong support to this library.

In the history of German poetry, Heine, a handsome man with a handsome face and a beautiful tree facing the wind, was only half a step ahead of Goethe. This handsome boy with brown eyes and blond hair, wearing a colorful vest and a soft scarf, is a Jew and a Protestant. Protestantism is Christianity. Christianity was originally a sect of Judaism. Jesus was a Jew. "Christ" comes from the Greek word Christos, and the Jewish Hebrew name is "Messiah", which means "anointed". According to the Old Testament, after the king of Israel is elected, the prophet will anoint his body and pour anointing oil on his head to prove that he has been appointed king by the command of Jehovah (God). Later the Messiah (Christ) evolved into the "Savior" of Judaism. The Jews believed that the world would eventually be saved, but that the Messiah (Christ) had not yet come. But Jesus declared that he was the Christ.

That year, Chinese cabbage was planted all over the sky. From one end of the vegetable field, you can't see the city's buildings and chimneys in the distance. It's like the Chinese cabbage field is connected to the city. In fact, we know that the vegetable field is far away from the city. First of all, it is separated by a river. On the other side of the river is a vegetable field in another village. On the other side of the vegetable field are several large factories. After passing the factories, you can see the true appearance of the city. If you walk, this section Of course, none of us wanted to walk. When we went to the city, we borrowed a bicycle and rode it. It was not because we were tired, but because we wanted a feeling, a feeling of flying. We usually stayed in the vegetable field, dealing with a group of old men and women (actually only one generation older than us, no more than forty or fifty years old), and we felt unspeakable frustration. We rode our bicycles and chased each other to the city. It was like a festival for us young people.

Feng Tianbao went crazy. It is indeed crazy. This was Gao Gao's unquestionable judgment when he saw him for the first time. But later, he did not think that Feng Tianbao was mentally ill and firmly opposed being sent to a mental hospital. For this reason, he even broke up with Qu Hongyun. What he had just received was an instruction from Qu Hongyun, asking him to take the people involved in the case to the mental hospital to pick up Feng Tianbao from the hospital. Putting down the phone, his mind was filled with Feng Tianbao, and the scene when he saw him for the first time came to mind again. When Gao Zhong rushed to the scene, thousands of people had gathered in front of the county TV station, and it became a chaos. The county TV station and the county government building are diagonally separated by a road, and not far ahead is Cross Street. This is the center of Yulin County, and it is during the rush hour. There are many people and traffic is congested.

Our classmate Song Yuanming came to the city from the countryside and became a formal staff member of the gallery affiliated with the city museum for only two years. The gallery was contracted to operate the gallery. The gallery manager was not called a manager, but a boss. At first Song Yuanming did not realize the significance of this change to him. There is no doubt that he was already a regular employee of the museum two years ago. However, when he moved to the city, the city people did not really regard him as a city citizen. In fact, other regular workers in the gallery did not do much work. The dirty, tiring, and boring work was shouldered by him and the temporary workers hired from outside without hesitation.

The sky was covered with blue silk, and groups of white horses were grazing leisurely. I followed my father out of the gate and went to my grandma's house. According to the household registration book, my father is the head of the household, but my grandma is the head of the household, so I have to say that my grandma is the head of the household. After breakfast, my father threw the lot formed by folding two small slips of paper onto the dining table and flicked the thick end of his chopsticks toward the table. "Sons, it all depends on your luck." My father tried another trick to send one of my brother and me to my grandmother's house. My brother's hands were trembling and he drew them behind his back. My brother and I treat my grandma's house as a fence. My brother and I are hungry. It was noon, and my stomach was rumbling. I asked about milk, milk, and when to eat. My grandma said she would wait until my third aunt gets out of school to learn how to do it.

Tingting finally found a job at a private school in Guangnaoke Village. Today is her first day of teaching at Daoxing School. When going out, Tingting took out the mirror from the drawer and put it on the table. She looked in the mirror and put on the brown glasses. She also smoothed her bangs to the right. She felt that the scars on her face were less obvious, so she picked up her cloth bag and went downstairs. The rental house is very close to Daoxing School. The air is cool and refreshing in the winter morning, and Tingting walks with brisk steps. This road is the widest concrete road in Guangnaoke Village, and can accommodate two small trucks side by side. There are mountains on both sides of the road, but there is no green anymore because houses have been built. These houses were all built by local farmers themselves. They all follow the mountain topography and the financial resources and preferences of each family, so they look ups and downs. They are not very tall, with only three or four floors and more than ten rooms.

"I was shocked, grabbed my mother's hand and asked, how was she? My mother said, she... She later became addicted to drugs for some reason, and died of overdose..." How did a childhood sweetheart leave "me" until he died? How did my father, who had been indifferent since childhood, make "me" experience deep love? The novel tells the story of "my" growth affectionately, and all the pain and joy that "I" experienced during my growth. It makes people feel heart-pounding and sad when reading it. I chose to go back to my hometown town one winter. On the day I went back, I was wearing a military uniform and was very conspicuous in the town. There were only a few hundred people in the town, and they all looked at me in surprise. I found that when I came back after five years away, the town was still as lazy as before, but many people no longer recognized me.

Dalaizi has gone to Tianfu, Lao Gutou has gone to Tianfu, the familiar people have either left the village or Dadu has been in Tianfu, who else is there? Who else do you know? The post was immersed in memories, and his feet restlessly stepped on the newly green grass. Green juice sprouted from the grass under his feet, staining his muddy brown leather shoes and whitened trousers green. Looking at the shy post, Juzi said, I come back once and feel sad once, and I know fewer and fewer people. People leave as soon as they say they will. The post then raised his head and looked at Juzi. The wrinkles at the corners of Juzi's eyes were also densely packed. If you look at the corners of your eyes, you can see that there are wrinkles in the corners of the eyes. Juzi is also old. Juzi was the first college student to fly away after the college entrance examination was resumed in the village. Later, I heard that Juzi was working as a cadre in a department in the city. Juzi's husband was said to be a director, but he rarely came back.

Before daybreak, Ma Erhu got up from the kang, put on his shoes and went behind the door, reached into the urine bucket with his feet, and released the urine he had been holding back. After being released, he returned to the kang and turned on the electric light, poked the stove with a chopstick, and warmed half a copper basin of water on the stove. After the water was warm and he washed his face, he looked in the mirror again and shaved cleanly with a razor. After shaving, he found that the hair of the person in the mirror was all white, and he couldn't help but sigh, age is not forgiving, and he was about to turn eighty. Another thought is yes, my son Ma Shan is over sixty, how can he not grow old? After putting away his old face, Ma Erhu took out a Mao suit from the box. Although the gray Mao suit was old, but because he was reluctant to wear it, it still lay flat until now, just like when it was first made.

It was an ordinary Monday. Zhu Yan went to work with a bit of Monday syndrome, a bit heavy and a bit forced. The beginning of the week is always a bit difficult, this is a common mood in the office building. While Zhu Yan was listing the things to do this week, thinking about the marketing plan for the new jewelry product line, and the things that must be done today, she already felt like a mess, with all the details and details in her mind. She mentally persuaded herself not to sigh. There is a book called "Never Complain". Zhu Yan hopes that she can have such a level of cultivation. She is thirty-five years old and feels that she has certain experience and experience, and should have a certain state of mind. She is now working as a marketing director for a foreign-funded company in Shenzhen, dealing with the luxury goods market.

Guo Haisheng studies at Hongguang Primary School. The class teacher at that time was named Xu Geying. Two things happened to Guo Haisheng when he was in the fifth grade of elementary school: one was that a girl named Xiao Wanqing came in at the beginning of the new semester of fifth grade; the other was that at the end of the second semester of fifth grade, Guo Haisheng's father stole a seamless steel pipe from the factory and was caught and paraded on the street. These two incidents later affected Guo Haisheng's fate. Guo Haisheng left school in a hurry before graduating from elementary school. Of course, Hongguang Elementary School later changed its name back to Factory Street Elementary School, just like many commercial service industries on this street such as Hongguang Food Store, Hongguang Photo Studio, and Hongguang Cinema... Later changed their names back to their original names. But this has nothing to do with Guo Haisheng.

Xi Niang is dead. Xi Niang is really dead. I was still a little shocked when I learned the news of Xiniang's death: Why did Xiniang die just because she said she was dead? And also choose to do it in such a winter with heavy snow? But Xi Niang is definitely dead. At 8:08 in the morning, Xiniang breathed her last breath, closed her eyes resolutely, and walked away in the snow without leaving a word to anyone. It was already noon when we rushed back to our hometown by car. Our hometown is by the Trumpet Lake, which is hundreds of miles away. This place surrounded by water used to be very poor. Except during holidays, it was difficult for us to have a meal of white rice on ordinary days. But even in such a poor place, people are very concerned about face, and there are many kinds of customs and etiquette. The little girl is dead.

After closing the door, I buried my body deeply into the big leather swivel chair and fell into deep thought. Whenever I decide to personally try a case, I have to think carefully, clarify the context of the case, figure out various objective factors that may affect the trial process, and predict the outcome of the case trial and its possible impacts. Do this so that you know what to do, so that in the future your actions will be dazzling and unbiased, and you will seek advantages and avoid disadvantages. For many years, this has been my professional habit as a labor arbitrator and the president of a labor arbitration court. But today, I couldn't gather my thoughts. The smile and frown of Tian Chunlai, who just left my office, always sways in my mind. In fact, Tian Chunlai just came to my office as an ordinary labor dispute arbitration applicant and signed for a document approving the filing of the case.

July 28, 2010 "Hey, while Principal Fang Zheng has just taken office, go and tell him that if our house is not repaired, we will really not be able to live in it!" Meizhen, the lover of teacher Wan Xianqiong of Songxiang Town Middle School, said to Wan Xianqiong who was watching TV. "Alas..." He let out a long sigh. Wan Xianqiong and Fang Zheng have always been at odds with each other, but he has never made it clear to Meizhen, and Meizhen has no idea about it. When Fang Zheng was the teaching director of Songxiang Town Middle School, Wan Xianqiong heard from other teachers that in order to be promoted, Fang Zheng took the paper that Wan Xianqiong had submitted to the teaching office to prepare for the city competition and made his own essay for promotion. Wan Xianqiong went to the Education Joint School to check Fang Zheng's promotion materials. Sure enough, the paper "Using Texts to Educate Students on Love Concepts" was signed with Fang Zheng's name.

After Uncle Jiu was discharged from the hospital, he suddenly looked much older and no longer smiled all day long like before. Sizi and the others went to see him, but they just sat there. When they were tired, they went back to their homes. One day, Sizi said, "Uncle Jiu, don't you want to know why Zhu Si'er was the only one bidding at the public auction?" Uncle Jiu said nothing. Sizi said, "Uncle Jiu, if you don't want to know, I have to tell you that Zhu Si'er came down with a lot of people that day. Anyone who came to bid would either give them some money and send them away, or glare at them." Originally, few people came to bid, and everyone knew that Zhu Si'er wanted to buy it. Who dared to come and seize the food from the tiger's mouth? Uncle Jiu said nothing. Sizi said, Uncle Jiu, do you know who hurt you? Uncle Jiu said nothing. Sizi said, Uncle Jiu, blame us for being cowardly. Uncle Jiu said nothing.

Huang Shahan played very patiently. He wanted to play chess in various ways, so it took a lot of brainpower and was very interesting. It was almost 12 o'clock in the night. The little old man said: "I have to close the big iron gate. It's time for you to go home. Where do you live?" "I have lost too much. I am not convinced. Try again!" "At your level, you can't beat me until dawn." The little old man gave his hand another hot breath. Throughout the chess game, the little old man breathed continuously. Huang Shahan discovered that the little old man had a habit of breathing heat. When the little old man locked the big iron door, Huang Shahan walked to the door and looked at his son's home. The lights were still on.

Just left like this? Just like that they all left. I was lying on the hospital bed, feeling melancholy. Those relatives and friends who came to visit me told me in sad and excited tones to take good care of my injuries and strive for a speedy recovery. Then, they quietly exited the luxurious singles ward one by one. I couldn't even nod my head, and I didn't have any strength in my body. I could only watch them leave, like a child who has lost all his toys and is hopeless. The steps are jumbled. All the people are gone. Even Li Mengyang, who was eager to explain what happened, was nowhere to be seen. All that was left in the quiet ward were the same bouquets of flowers. They fill the coffee table, sofa, bedside and all the nooks and crannies. Although it is extremely bright, can it last forever? Just like yesterday, I was commanding the entire group of thousands of troops with great grace, but today I was lying on the hospital bed like a defeated army.

Xue Shu envied everyone and everything in Qingyou's house next door, and it had been many years since he was a baby. Qingyou's kitchen house faces west, and there is a pear tree in front of the house. The pears are wooden pears, small and solid, and they are as sharp as stones when chewed. No one likes to eat them, so they are left hanging on the tree to dry, shrink and turn black, like a tree weight. When the wind blows, they rattle like a hollow gourd. But every spring and April, the pear blossoms on that tree were the most beautiful in the village, like snow flakes and white butterflies. Qingyou's family would sit under the dazzling pear blossoms every morning to eat, drinking rice soup and eating pickles.

Chen Kaiyan looked for Liu Yifei through Miss Ye Zi, because Liu Yifei was known as China's Buffett. What Chen Kaiyan is looking for now is Buffett. It seems that only Buffett can solve the problems he is facing now. Since we can't find the real Buffett, we can only look for the Chinese Buffett. Chen Kaiyan said to Ye Zi: "This time it can't be solved with hundreds of millions. It may take billions of funds. You will be busy then." Miss Ye Zi smiled sweetly and said, "Thank you, Brother Yan, for giving me the opportunity." Chen Kaiyan is a native of Shenzhen and is destined to make a fortune. His Caiwuwei village has long since become the center of Shenzhen. Not only did he and all the villagers transform from farming to non-agriculture overnight, but they also became rich without any effort. Chen Kaiyan was able to transform from a rich man to a big boss, in his own words, entirely because he cared about the masses and believed in the party.