In the famine winter, every household in Liuhekou Village could see the bottom of its grain jar.
Shen Shoushan returned to age twenty with the memories of an entire lifetime. On the kang, Grandma was coughing up blood but keeping it secret. In the kitchen, less than half a jar of cornmeal remained. His little sister clung to the edge of the kang and asked if he could add one more spoonful of flour.
He repaired the old musket his father had left behind and walked into the snow of Laoya Ridge. He rolled up his frostbitten trouser legs and waded into the shallows of Qingyu Bay.
He set traps along the animal trails and waited for the fishing season to turn with the tide. Small game bought grain, big game bought medicine, and seafood bought him a gun permit.
No city life, no trade business.
The snowy forests of the deep mountains became his hunting grounds, and the thousand-mile sea became his granary.
In this famine year, the poor bow their heads. The rich eat meat.
