Chapter 41 Has Spring Come?
The beginning of summer in 1973.

Xishuangbanna in southern Xinjiang.

Dayu Village is a remote small village located beside the Lancang River.

The humid and hot weather is like a large steamer, mercilessly scorching everyone here.

“Squeak~”

“Guaguagua~”

The noisy chirping of cicadas can be heard from the emerald green and deep primeval forest. From time to time, a few green frogs jump out from the small pond with green algae and lotus leaves floating on it, with bulging cheeks and croaking.

The brigade’s health center.

Xiaofang was holding a fan made of banana leaves in her hand and fanning herself with it. The humid and hot temperature made her clothes wet with sweat and her face flushed.

The countryside in southern Xinjiang is dull and boring, with deep primeval forests everywhere. The backward Dayu Village is wrapped in it, like a fish about to be swallowed by a giant forest beast…

Perhaps only a ten-year-old Xiaofang would be so excited to run around in the primeval forest, be frightened by poisonous insects and snakes, and be excited by all kinds of strange plants…

“I really don’t know how long this kind of life will last. Perhaps only by truly realizing the old man’s communism and realizing the great unity and liberation of the proletariat of all mankind can it be possible? After all, Dayu Village is such a remote place… When will spring come…”

Accompanied by the roar of an engine, a large truck appeared in front of Xiaofang. It seemed to be escorting cargo, escorting a truck full of confused and overwhelmed young educated youth.

One of the tall, fair-skinned young men caught Xiaofang’s attention…

The gears of fate begin to turn…

……

“Ah……”

Yang Shu’an’s brows were furrowed, and his brown eyes were fixed on the neatly arranged lines of manuscript in front of him without a single typo.

The opening sentence: “Why is there no spring? Because… there has never been any spring.”

Yang Shuan didn’t know how to describe his feelings.

What does spring mean to a remote mountain village in southern Xinjiang?
Is it the policy for educated youth?

What does spring mean to Xiaofang, the educated daughter of the village party secretary?
Is it Song Jingming from the capital? Song Jingming means spring and Jingming, is it spring?
But the author said at the beginning that there has never been a spring. Does the spring here refer to Song Jingming?

Or is it a metaphor for something?
“It seems that what Editor-in-Chief Zhang said is right!”

After reading Yang Shu’an’s opening chapter with just a few hundred words, I became more convinced of the author’s writing skills.

Although he had only read the beginning, he had a feeling that this was going to be a tragedy.

However, Yang Shuan was not in a hurry. He weighed the manuscript in his hand and felt particularly safe because of its heavy weight.

He then looked down.

……

On the night of the Beginning of Summer, cicadas were chirping incessantly. Dayu Village held a grand bonfire welcome ceremony for the arrival of the educated youth, and people sang and danced.

When Xiaofang returned home late at night, she caught a cicada like she did when she was a child, and she thought she could catch the whole summer.

She thought she would bloom in midsummer, blooming brilliantly, dazzlingly and beautifully.

But she forgot that she was not a flower.

She thought that the spring of her life was coming, but she didn’t know that spring did not belong to her, or it only belonged to her for a short time, or it never belonged to her.

Spring just passed by in a hurry, leaving behind a faint spring breeze that blew away her grass stems.

……

Before I knew it, the whole morning had passed.

Yang Shuan was moved by the false yet true love between Xiaofang and Song Jingming, and was also excited by the youthful enthusiasm of the educated youth for construction, farming, digging reservoirs, building roads and bridges, and fighting the epidemic with unity and no regrets.

In this midsummer season, all the young people’s regretless youth and passion are vividly portrayed and blooming at this moment.

Soon, autumn came.

Yang Shuan felt a sudden tightness in his heart and continued reading.

It was a night, and due to their age difference, Song Jingming and Xiaofang hastily held a wedding.

Song Jingming began to think about returning to the city, and by a small river that was a tributary of the Lancang River, the two of them sat on the grass as they did before.

Song Jingming sang a song with a pleasant voice and beautiful melody: “There is a girl in the village named Xiaofang, who is pretty and kind, with a pair of beautiful big eyes and a thick and long whip…”

Xiaofang thought it sounded good and sang along. Song Jingming said it was not finished yet, it was just a semi-finished product.

Time passed slowly, and the policy came from above, and we could return to the city.

Everything starts with the implementation of national policies. Spring begins with it and ends with it.

One beautiful thing after another was overthrown, and tragedies followed one after another.

……

It was getting dark outside the window. The lights on the riverside pier in the distance were bright and the sound of boat engines was humming.

“Tick tock…”

“Dang Dang Dang~”

In the editor-in-chief’s office, the old mechanical pendulum clock made a crisp sound.

“Click…”

“Editor-in-Chief Yang, it’s already six o’clock in the evening. Why are you still in the office…”

The door opened, and Chen Shanshan, a young editor who was a graduate of Wuhan University, heard the noise and pushed the door open.

Because Chen Shanshan was on duty cleaning today, she was inspecting every office as usual, checking the power supply, lights, electrical appliances, doors and windows.

But unexpectedly, I saw a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties holding a manuscript in his hands behind the desk, with a haggard face.

At this moment, Chen Shanshan was shocked!
Editor-in-Chief Yang is still in the office?

But from this morning till now, Editor-in-Chief Yang has been in the office all day and has not come out. Whether he went to the toilet or to eat or take a break, the door of his office has never been opened.

Chen Shanshan slowly approached, lowered her body and looked over carefully.

Yang Shuan was holding a burnt-out cigarette butt between his fingers. The smooth and clean mahogany desk was covered with cold cigarette ashes and hot tears. He was still muttering:

“Thank you for your love, which I will never forget in this life. Thank you for your tenderness, which accompanied me through that era…”

“Editor-in-chief? What’s wrong with you? You were so engrossed in reading, why are you crying?”

Chen Shanshan glanced at the thick manuscript in the man’s hand and had some guesses in her mind.

At this time, Yang Shuan frowned when he heard the noise beside him: “Didn’t I tell you to knock on the door before anything happens?”

He hated it most when someone disturbed him while he was reading a manuscript.

Chen Shanshan’s pretty face wrinkled, and she said aggrievedly, “It’s already six o’clock in the evening, Editor-in-Chief. I’m on duty today. As usual, I have to check every room. Editor-in-Chief, you haven’t gone out all day, and we all thought you had skipped work a long time ago.”

“what!”

“It’s six o’clock in the evening!”

Yang Shu’an was horrified and stood up quickly. How fast!
With a left kick and a fried leg kick, he ran out of the office.

Whoosh, as fast as a gust of wind.

Chen Shanshan was stunned when she saw the editor-in-chief running so fast. She muttered, “Is my sister-in-law so scary? Isn’t she just a Sichuanese woman? If I come home late, I have to kneel on the washboard? A henpecked woman!”

……

Ten minutes later.

Yang Shuan opened the door with a briefcase in his arms.

“Shufen, I’m back. I was delayed by something in the editorial office today.”

“Okay, just wait… dinner will be ready soon.”

A middle-aged woman in a red apron poked her head out of the kitchen and said something.

Hearing this, Yang Shuan breathed a sigh of relief and sat down at the dining table. At this time, his daughter and son were sitting in a row, gnawing on chicken legs at the table.

“Is spring coming? Is it coming? Tathagata!”

Yang Shuan thought for a while and took out the manuscript to continue reading. When he was fascinated by it and looking forward to the spring coming to the grass, he felt a tearing pain in his ears.

Now he doesn’t know whether the grass’s spring has come or not, but he knows that his own spring has not come.

“Ah… it hurts, it hurts, my wife! Let go!”

Go go go, number one on the list?
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(End of this chapter)