Tuoniang River to Black Land

Introduction to the work "Tuo Niang River to the Black Land" From Zhangyin on the banks of the Tuoniang River to the machine tools in the black soil of Northeast China, Zhang Tianxiao spent nearly seventy years of his life living the "little lives of ordinary people" into a book that contains the warmth of the times. He was not a born hero - he would shed tears on the Huaihai battlefield, he would struggle with spare parts when building a factory in Northeast China, and he could not remember the names of his comrades when writing memoirs in his later years; but he had the energy of a descendant of wolf soldiers hidden in him. During the Anti-Japanese War, he used strong brocade to wrap explosives, and during construction, he used locust branches to repair machine tools. The people around her are not symbols either: Zhou Guoxin's determination was born from the handkerchiefs given to her in northern Shaanxi and cotton-padded jackets from prison; the Ankang people's down-to-earthness came from growing rice on the Tuoniang River and sending sour bamboo shoots to their comrades. They weaved their days into brocade and hid their concerns in sour bamboo shoot jars, making every moment full of fireworks. I have never shouted empty slogans. Love is the handle of a machine tool wrapped in brocade. Home and country are small things like teaching workers to weave bamboo baskets and running night classes to read and write. Missing is standing at the Guanghua Gate in Nanjing in my later years and telling passers-by about the appearance of sacrificing brothers. When the wind of the Tuoniang River meets the snow of the black earth, and when the fragrance of camphor leaves mixes with the smell of machine tool oil, Zhang Tianxiao's life eventually became the shadow of countless people's ancestors - working hard and living well, etching the mark of the times into those tangible memories.