Gu An was squatting amidst a mess of copper wires and capacitors, holding a screwdriver that was polished to a shine.
In the Gu Family Courtyard, five-and-a-half-year-old Gu An was squatting amidst a mess of copper wires and capacitors. He held a shiny polished screwdriver in his hand, with a smear of black engine oil on his nose.
"An An, aren't you done dismantling the radio Uncle Jiang sent you?" Lin Wan Yi was wearing a tailored moon-white qipao, sitting in a rattan chair under the porch. She was flipping through a German original medicine book, her fingers occasionally lightly brushing the pages.
Gu An didn't look up, his voice crisp yet carrying a maturity beyond his age: "Mom, the radio can only broadcast others' words, it's boring. I want the whole community to hear our family's voice."
