In the twelfth lunar month of 1980, six-year-old Wang Shufen hid behind a pile of firewood and witnessed her grandfather, the last shaman in Shenyang, using three copper rings to drive away evil spirits. The wind and snow suddenly stopped, the gods retreated, and only her "divine eyes" were marked with fate.
Forty-four years later, she was laid off, divorced, and demolished in the urban village, one after another crushing her secular life. Everyone advised her to give up the ancestral shaman sacrificial vessels and ancient blood sausages and adapt to the traffic dividends - her ex-husband thought she was embarrassed, Internet celebrities were curious about her live broadcast, and the intangible cultural heritage capital wanted to squeeze out the commercial value of the "intangible cultural heritage IP". But she clutched the broken notes passed down by her grandfather and repeated the ancestral precept of "Three Clears, Seven Steps, Five Turns, and One Quiet" in the enamel basin. Each piece of blood sausage she cooked was covered with fine honeycomb pores - this is the unique "living mark" of the orthodox ancient method, and it is also a signpost recognized by the gods.
When the internet celebrity lost her followers during the live broadcast and the owner of Taishengyuan polished the copper pot but could not make the blood sausage, Shufen still stayed in her rental house and used an old enamel pot to cook a simple pot of blood sausage to worship the gods. That night when the fireworks went up, my daughter whispered, "Mom, I'll learn from you."
The bulldozers leveled the old courtyard, and the copper pot was returned to the false name. But those fine pores, the automatic stove fire without wind, and the warm spoon handle in the middle of the night all prove that true inheritance never dies in ruins. It lives in the hot pot of fireworks deep in the heart.
