Didn't you say that we would lose money after filming?

What Liu Changbing saw was a simple text.

This passage is simple and unadorned, yet it vividly portrays a story in just a few strokes.

Ten years younger than I am now, I would have a leisurely job collecting folk songs in the countryside.

That summer, I wandered around like a sparrow, drifting through the sunlit villages and fields of Zhihe.

I enjoy drinking the bitter tea that farmers make. They leave their tea buckets under the trees on the edge of the fields, and without a second thought, they pick up their stained teacups, scoop up water, and drink. They fill their own water jugs, exchange a few idle words with the men working in the fields, and then strut away amidst the snickers of the girls. I once chatted with an old man tending his melon patch for an entire afternoon—the most melons I've ever eaten in my life. When I stood up to leave, I suddenly realized I was walking with difficulty, like a pregnant woman.

Then I sat on the threshold with a woman who had become a grandmother, who was weaving straw sandals and singing "Ten Months of Pregnancy." My favorite time was in the evening, sitting in front of the farmer's house, watching them pour water from the well onto the ground to suppress the rising dust, the setting sun shining through the treetops, taking a fan they offered, tasting their salty vegetables, and watching the young women and men talking.

Every word seems to carry the dusty feeling of that era, without excessive accumulation of words, but a scene is depicted in just a few sentences.

Whether it's the sparrows flying around in the fields, the tea barrels and the farmers' bitter, strong tea, or the woman who has become a grandmother singing "Ten Months of Pregnancy," it all seems to be telling the story of the hardships women face in nurturing life.

It's very cozy, but in a warm, yellowish way.

It gives people a very special feeling.

"hiss--"

Liu Changbing frowned and inhaled sharply.

Although I hate to admit it, this passage does have a unique flavor when you savor it.

This flavor is different. It's detached from popular literature. In fact, this kind of writing is also very popular, but the difference is that while it's popular, it's also very sophisticated.

It might be difficult for someone without the necessary skills to describe this feeling.

However, anyone with expertise can immediately recognize that this flavor comes from one thing: the power of the brushstrokes.

A truly powerful work of art can instantly open a person's heart.

It's like someone taking a stone and smashing a door open—that feeling of knocking it open.

I have to admit, judging from what I've seen so far, Xia Yuan is actually quite capable!
This made Liu Changbing feel like it was all very absurd.

Something's not right, let's take another look!
He immediately narrowed his eyes and continued his 'critical reading'.

We should look at things critically, seriously, meticulously, and with a spirit of exploration.

But the more you look, the more alarming it becomes.

As he read, the whole story slowly unfolded before his eyes.

This is a story about a man named Fugui.

Fugui was born into a landlord family. In his youth, he was a dissolute young man who frequently visited a brothel in the city for drinking, gambling, and whoring.

His father-in-law owned a rice shop in the city. Every time Fugui went to a brothel, he would have a prostitute carry him on her back to the street and then pass by his father-in-law's rice shop. This shows how dissolute and depraved he was.

Later, Fugui fell into someone's trap and lost all of his family's land and property, turning his family from big landlords into poor people overnight.

Fugui's father died of depression. His father's death brought Fugui to his senses, and he decided to start anew.

From then on, Fugui rented land to make a living. He put on coarse clothes, picked up farm tools, and began his life as a farmer. Soon after, Fugui's mother fell ill, and he took the only two silver dollars he had left to go to the city to hire a doctor. But an accident happened to him in the city: he was conscripted by the Kuomintang army.
The more Liu Changbing looked, the more alarmed she became.

Firstly, in terms of the reading experience, Xia Yuan directly strips away the traditional grand narrative in this book, pointing directly to the most primal meaning of life.

This relates to a question that traditional literature has always explored: "Man lives for the sake of living itself, not for anything beyond living." This is something that the more professional a person is, the more immediately they can see.

Ironically, Liu Changbing's skill level is actually quite good.

Although he was jealous, proud, and arrogant, he was indeed a writer of talent.

After all, there is no first place in literature but there is a second place in martial arts; this saying applies to any era.

In the book, Fugui experiences the successive deaths of his loved ones, namely his parents, children, wife, son-in-law, and grandson. These important people disappear from his life one by one.

Then came the suffering of losing all family property and the devastation of war, yet he always accepted his fate with an attitude of "endurance," giving people the most direct and intuitive feeling.

If Liu Changbing were to describe it, it would be the philosophical core of "living towards death".

When the contrast of death amplifies the intrinsic value of life, this exploration of the essence of life transcends cultural boundaries and touches the human heart.

Fugui's philosophy of survival is not one of passively accepting fate, but rather contains a spirit of resistance similar to "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger."

For example, in his later years, when he was with his old ox, he still talked about his simple wish that "chicks would turn into geese, and geese would turn into sheep".

Calling the old goose by the name of a loved one is a way to commemorate the deceased.

It has a direct impact on people.

Then there is the two-layered narrative structure.

Xia Yuan actually adopted the framework of "the field researcher listening to Fugui's self-narration", which made the first-person narrative have both the authenticity of the participant and the reflective distance of the observer.

Fugui calmly recounts his tragic past, while the silent intervention of "I" as a listener guides the reader to complete a secondary interpretation of suffering through empathy.

Moreover, it didn't break the immersion in the story.

Then there's the old ox, which is a reflection of the protagonist, symbolizing, from another perspective, the tenacious continuation of life in humble circumstances.

Calling upon the old ox in the name of the dead, transforming memory into the spirit of survival.

This is equivalent to directly highlighting the core message of the book.

Then there is the depth of history and the dimension of culture.

The clash between an individual's fate and the tide of the times.

Fu Gui's life is intertwined with all the major events in Hanxia's past, including wars and other significant events. His fate becomes a microcosm of Hanxia.

Long Er was executed, and Chun Sheng committed suicide during that turbulent era.

The absurd tragedy of Youqing dying from having his blood drained reveals many chilling and thought-provoking realities.

And the most crucial point is that, through these words, Xia Yuan didn't directly comment on anything, but instead used Fugui's experience of being "manipulated at will" to show how ordinary people struggle to survive in the cracks of the times.

There was no personal agenda involved!
It tells this story from a completely objective perspective, a story about ordinary people from the soil.

By the time Liu Changbing had finished reading the entire book without realizing it, he had goosebumps all over and was deeply moved by the story.

He cursed under his breath, "Damn it!" (End of Chapter)