"Cock-a-doodle-doo…"
The roosters' crow broke the silence in a small village.
Days were long in September. The sun had yet to rise, but the sky was already lit up. This small village just waking up sat right to the south of Bai Town and was named Taiping Village. For generations, villagers here farmed for a living, and like in most villages in the north, they were neither impoverished nor well-off. They got by, and that was all.
Gao Mingde was born and raised in this village and was now in his fifties. He used to venture into the outside world in his youth, but eventually came back home. He had a son, who had settled down in Shengtian and treated his old man well enough.
Elderly people woke easily. Gao Mingde got up very early, prepared the pig feed with nimble hands, fed the pigs and chickens, then moved on to clean the yard.