The Sun in the Wall

In the summer of 1998, the roar of bulldozers crushed the morning fog in Qingxifang. Engineer Zhou Mingyuan stroked the cracks in the wall with his fingertips - the concrete grade was insufficient and the coal gangue was adulterated by more than 40%. Behind him are the homes of two hundred laid-off workers: the vegetable seller is clutching a joint letter, the old horse has calluses with his wrench, and Grandma Wang is pasting the word "sun" on her chest. There was no earth-shattering reversal, only the rustle of the broom across the bluestone, the heat of the ginger soup at the community station, and the swaying of the foxtail grass in the cracks in the wall. A package of peach cakes contains a secret code, half of a locust tree leaf has the word "Shou" engraved on it, and a sun painted in red paint quietly grows in the cracks of the bricks. When the car stops at the alley, when the fake samples on the acceptance day are smashed with a wrench, they are guarding not only the bricks and tiles, but also the light deep in the heart. Five years later, locust trees filled the streets. The foundation of the new wall is three meters deep, and potted foxtail plants flourish on the windowsill. The children asked: "Why are the walls of Qingxifang so strong?" Lao Ma put the vernier caliper into the hands of the children: "Because the people who built the walls have light in their hearts." This is a silent epic of ordinary people. Concrete will weather and bulldozers will rust, but the tracks of the broom's rotation, the warmth of the steaming bread, and the seeds of spring stored in the cracks of the bricks - Harder than any foundation stone.