Pomegranate

The 22nd year of the Republic of China, Lotus Pond. A baby girl didn't cry when she was born. The midwife slapped her six times but she didn't cry. She sucked out a mouthful of black phlegm from mouth to mouth, and she said "wow", which scared the old scalper next door crazy. Her name is Shen Lian. At the age of seven, he took off the foot-binding cloth and hung it bloody in front of the whole village. When I was thirteen years old, I burst into tears while listening to Huangmei Opera. The troupe leader said: "This girl has a life in her throat." Four men came into her life: one cheated on her, one died of illness, one was hacked to death with a bamboo knife, and one never said he loved her until his death. Four children, three fathers, each one farther away than the other. She never complained about suffering because her mother said: "Just move forward." She thought she would grow in mud. Unexpectedly, the flowers blooming in the mud are the reddest. This is the story of a woman measuring her life with her feet. Don't bind your feet, don't accept your fate, don't look back. It makes you slap your thighs when you laugh, and makes you breathless when you cry. The pomegranate is red, but the roots are still in the mud. A woman who does not bind her feet will spend her life telling you: Life can be bitter, but you cannot kneel down.