The Old Millstone Cannot Turn the Footprints

In Rajia Village deep in the mountains, an old millstone has been spinning for a lifetime, spinning the fireworks of the Yi people and the joys and sorrows of the Agula family. Agula guarded the millstone and fire pit, thinking that he could maintain the stability passed down from generation to generation, but he did not expect that the wind outside the mountain would eventually blow into the village - the developer's bulldozer crushed the tranquility, and his son who went out to work brought back the temptation of the city. Even his beloved little daughter was fascinated by the world outside the mountain. Some people choose to escape, some are stubborn and hold on, and some are struggling between tradition and modernity. The old millstone can no longer turn, and the sound of the copper bell is getting weaker and weaker. Only the residual warmth of the fire pit still tells the past: the joyful songs when welcoming the bride, the tears of parting, the roars of protecting the home, and the unspoken concerns that were taken away by the mountain wind. When the last wisp of smoke dissipated among the ruins, the growth rings on the old millstone were still clear - what was engraved there was not anyone's victory or failure, but the traces of a group of people who lived seriously: suffering, laughing, staying together, parting, and finally, like grains on the millstone, being ground by the years into the original flavor of life.