Peach and plum bloss

Yang Ge would go to the countryside every month, he was already used to it.,After turning several corners, the path became increasingly rugged, yet Yang Ge's footsteps grew lighter. The heavy tricycle felt as light and nimble in his hands as a wisp of incense.,Yang Ge ignored the old man's sorrowful eyes. With nimble hands and feet, he carried one heavy sack after another into the low-ceilinged hut. He untied the sack mouths and poured grain by grain of golden wheat kernels into the food barrel.。