It's early winter, and the weather is suddenly cold.

A chill invaded from the northwest mountain pass and stayed in the huge mountain pass. Slowly accumulating, precipitating, wandering between every corner of the ditch large and small.

After a autumn of dyeing, the original colorful colors of the mountains and slopes were ruthlessly peeled off layer by layer by this sudden chill, leaving only the dark branches and crumbling dead leaves in the dense forest. The mountain seemed to have shed its flowery clothes, revealing its black-brown rugged bones, and straightened its chest tremblingly in the cold wind that swept in the four fields, resisting the increasingly strong frost. The trees that resemble body hair also shiver with the cold wind, making bursts of "whirring" sighs. The rocks that used to be hidden in the shade of the greenery also poked their heads out one by one, revealing their iron-blue faces with teeth and claws through the cracks in the fine branches.

On the hillsides, between the ravines, there are no green or gray crops in the fields. Bare and exposed gray-white skin, let the cold air inhale lightly, helplessly waiting for the ravages of winter. Eventually, it will be injected into the energy bag that reserves life for the hearty release of the next spring.

There is a solemn atmosphere in the whole col. Suddenly intense, suddenly low, but not tragic or desolate, but stoic and anticipating. Endure the loneliness of a long winter, looking forward to another appointment.

At the foot of the North Mountain, far from the village, a few red flags stretched out in the slightly pale sunlight. Standing at the entrance of the village, looking up to the north, the first thing that catches your eye is a little red in the gray bush. Then, you will hear the sound of the wind drifting from there, like joy, like laughter, like the sound of ramming, like thunder. At first glance, it can be faintly heard, but when you listen closely, there is no trace.

There are few people in the village. Occasionally, a figure swayed, and an old man with a hunched back led a child who could not move independently, leaning on his house or in front of his house, basking in the sun. Or there are naughty young children who refuse to accept the reprimand, break free from the old man's dry hands, and run to the dead branches and leaves in front of the hospital to check something. Immediately, he followed a faltering figure and dragged the delicate child back to the warm door. After a while, this will happen again.

The Xinghua Village Brigade Headquarters is located in the middle of the village.

On a large flat plateau, there are rows of nine houses, all of which are low houses with stone walls and straw. The doors and windows are dilapidated, the light is low, and the inside is slightly darker. It is surrounded by a courtyard wall made of rocks forked together, and it is not glued with mud and water. Some of the wall stones are stacked, some are scattered, like a long, straight pile of stones, wrapping the house around this flat ridge.

Although the house is low, the yard is large enough to accommodate five or six ordinary farm yards. Inside, there are some wooden sticks, ox carts, ploughs and other common production tools, and Chen Heng is in the dead grass that will reach people's waists under a few tall apricot trees. The doors of the houses were nailed with small wooden planks three inches wide. The names of offices, accounting offices, warehouses, etc., are written in ink, all of which are written by Zhenshu.

The light in the room is dim, but the furnishings are still visible. Against the north wall is a large conjoined table, the size of two tables, which can sit opposite the east and west sides. In addition, two wooden row chairs occupy nearly half of the entire room. Such desks can be found everywhere in communes and village teams. There is a row of cupboards against the east wall, which contain the relevant account information of the village team and the bits and pieces of common household belongings.

Sour Apricot was napping alone on a row of chairs.

The day before yesterday, he went to the commune for a meeting, and he happened to meet Quartet on the streets of the town. The Quartet insisted that he go to his place for dinner after the meeting. Sour Xing went, and in the Sifang dormitory, he drank some wine with Sifang. Before leaving, there was no one in all directions, and he secretly took out two shriveled ** sticks from under his bed. Leaving one for himself, he wrapped the other one in newspaper, and hurriedly stuffed it into the bag that Sour Xing carried with him. He whispered, it was the donkey's whip. Anyway, regardless of Sour Xing's reaction and humility, he forcibly sent him out of the hotel gate. Although Sour Apricot was a little embarrassed on her face, she was actually happy in her heart. Along the way, he thought, this kid from the Quartet is so good at living, so he put all his effort into getting here.

When he returned home, he originally wanted the woman to cook and eat it that night, but it didn't work. Mao Lin and Zhenfu came together to report the progress of the dam construction site at the foot of Beishan, but he didn't dare to show it. After the two of them left, the dinner was over.

He put the bullwhip in the "angry cat" and saved it for later. This "angry cat" is the local people's collective name for the basket hanging high on the roof beam. It means that good things are put in this basket, and it is useless to let the cat die of hunger. I can't go up, and I can't reach it. Don't you know, Sour Apricot didn't make her cat angry, but she made herself angry enough. During the night, the rat sprinkled joy and gnawed off half of the donkey's whip.

The sour apricot didn't dare to keep it anymore, so she let the woman cook the whole wine and drink it. Sure enough, the strength was so strong that the two of them didn't sleep well in the middle of the night. When I woke up this morning, I felt tired, my eyes were blue, and my eyes were sleepy. I think it was because I was too energetic last night and didn't have a good rest. He also got a good number of women, saying that he was old, old, and not serious, so that the babies and cubs knew, how could he have a face.

As usual, he had already laid down in bed at home to catch up on sleep. If he doesn't make up for his sleep, he will definitely not get out of bed. However, even if he was killed today, he didn't dare to squat at home anymore.

According to the arrangement of the commune meeting the day before yesterday, in the next few days, the commune will supervise and inspect the progress of the winter water conservancy construction projects of the major brigades. No greetings, no fixed dates, spot checks anytime, anywhere. Check it out, hold an on-site meeting, set a typical example, and be praised. Check it, write it for inspection, and report criticism. If it is serious, it is necessary to investigate the responsibility of the main leaders. Suspended, demoted, or dismissed, etc., are nothing more than the usual tricks of cat and mouse, ruthlessly scaring the village officials who are getting more and more slippery.

Sour apricot is dreaming. He dreamed that he was ** up, squatting in a house full of donkey whips and bullwhips, nibbling on the tender donkey whips one by one. The donkey's whip writhed, like an eel in a river, and refused to enter the mouth of the sour apricot. It made him so anxious that he didn't swallow a few. From time to time, he skimmed his crotch, not only did he not see the majesty, but he was as soft as mud, loosening into a puddle of black ash, and he did not see a trace of anger. Suddenly, a donkey whip as thick as an arm was tightly held in the hand by the sour apricot. He was about to nibble when the other end of the donkey's whip went around his back and gave him a few gentle strokes on his back. He awoke suddenly, and saw several people standing in the room. Director Du of the Commune Revolutionary Committee was patting him on the shoulder with his hand.

When Director Du saw that he was awake, he was dissatisfied and said, what time is it, and he dares to be lazy and slippery here.

The sour apricot stood up with a spirit, and immediately broke out in a cold sweat, and his whole body was cold. He hurriedly nodded and gave up his seat to the leaders of the commune, and said casually, "Hey, hey, Director Du, my personal leader." If you kill me, I won't dare to be lazy and slippery here. Last night, I discussed things on the construction site, and I almost stayed up until dawn. I was just about to take a nap, and I told you to catch me.

Director Du interrupted him and said, whether you are slippery or not, go to the construction site to see it. If you dare to lie, I will not rely on you. After that, Director Du immediately went out of the house and asked Sour Xing to lead the group and go straight to the construction site.