The people before the New Year are like salmon swimming upstream, returning to their birthplace after much toil and hardship.
After the New Year, people are like dandelions blown by the wind, gently drifting in all directions.
Reunion and warmth are like a piece of candy that quickly dissolves in the mouth, leaving a faint lingering sweetness on the lips to savor throughout the year.
Every morning after the New Year, Li Sanjiang would change his habit of sitting on the second-floor terrace and instead sit in the courtyard.
Whenever villagers carry backpacks or ride motorcycles, intending to leave the village, they always make a point to come inside and stop by Li Sanjiang's house.
Some would bring a simple gift, not worth much, just to make a pair.
Some would offer a cigarette, smoke it with Li Sanjiang, then give another one for Li Sanjiang to tuck behind his ear before leaving.
