Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

Late March 1957, Wangjiazhuang area, Hongxing Commune, Changping District, Beijing.

The Awakening of Insects has passed, and the Spring Equinox is approaching. A faint, almost imperceptible warmth already lingers in the biting north wind, stubbornly gnawing at the last vestiges of winter's icy armor. On the vast North China Plain, the land, dormant all winter, is slowly and languidly awakening under the combined influence of sunlight and earth's energy. From the roots of the withered grass along the field ridges, tenacious, pale yellow new shoots sprout. The sky is that unique, high and clear azure of northern spring, with wisps of cotton-like white clouds torn very faint by the high-altitude wind.

The dirt road leading to Wangjiazhuang was riddled with potholes and muddy from last winter's snowmelt and the repeated freeze-thaw cycles of this spring. The poplar and willow trees on both sides of the road were still bare, but their bark had taken on a moist, bluish-gray hue, brimming with vitality. Several magpies perched on high branches, chattering away, their black and white feathers particularly striking in the sunlight.

"Rat-a-tat-tat... rat-a-tat-tat..."

A steady, powerful, and rhythmic roar of a diesel engine broke the tranquility of the countryside as it drew nearer. This sound was unlike the creaking of horse-drawn or oxcarts, or the clamor of rarely passing cars; it was deeper, more sustained, carrying the undeniable power unique to industrial creations. The sound grew closer, startling sparrows pecking for food on the field ridges, and drawing the attention of a few people working in the distant fields, as well as elderly people and children from the village who had come running out at the sound, all craning their necks to look.

At the end of the dirt road, a bright red "iron behemoth," almost dazzling in the sunlight, was driving along proudly. It wasn't particularly tall, but it was sturdy and powerful, its four wide rubber tires leaving deep ruts as they rolled through the mud. The front was square, painted a vibrant vermilion, with a golden five-pointed star shining brightly in the center, below which were the two large characters "Red Star" in Song-style font. The cab was semi-open, with a retractable canopy mounted on top. This was the "Red Star Brand Multi-functional Small Wheeled Tractor"—affectionately known and revered by the people as the "Little Cannon"—which had already begun to be promoted in some key communes across the country.

At this moment, driving the "little steel cannon" was a young man whose face was slightly red from the early spring wind and sand, but whose eyes were bright and whose demeanor carried the honesty of a farmer mixed with the efficiency unique to a worker. He wore a slightly worn blue work hat, faded but clean blue overalls, and a white towel around his neck. His hands gripped the steering wheel steadily, his eyes focused intently on the bumpy road ahead, and a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth revealed a hint of barely perceptible excitement and pride. He was Wang Jinshi, nicknamed Shitou, the youngest son of Wang Yuanshan, the production brigade leader of Wangjiazhuang. Last year, he was selected to learn at the Hongxing Factory and has now become a qualified tractor driver.

Behind the tractor, connected by a special three-point suspension system, was a truck bed, also painted military green and covered with a tarpaulin. Inside the truck bed, besides several large boxes tightly bound with tarpaulins, sat a man. This man was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, dressed in a fashionable "People's Suit," with a slightly worn dark blue cotton-padded jacket over it, a felt cap on his head, and black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He gripped the truck bed railing tightly with one hand, while the other hand protected a flat box carefully wrapped in a leather cover on his lap. His body swayed from side to side with the tractor's bumps, his face somewhat pale, but his small eyes behind his glasses shone with excitement and curiosity. He was Xu Damao, the film projectionist at the Red Star Steel Rolling Mill.

"Hey Stone, this...this Iron Ox is really something!" Xu Damao shouted, trying to drown out the roar of the diesel engine and the clanging of the wheels over potholes. "It's much more comfortable than riding my beat-up bicycle! It's just...it's just a bit too bumpy, I almost bounced my breakfast over!"

Wang Jinshi glanced at Xu Damao in the rearview mirror, grinned, and shouted back, "Master Xu, bear with it! We're almost there! See that big locust tree up ahead? Turn the corner and you'll be at the village entrance! This road is a bit rough, but once our commune system is fully implemented and we build a farm road, it'll be incredibly stable! Then, it won't be a problem at all, even hauling tons of grain with your projection equipment!"

"Good heavens! Several tons of grain?" Xu Damao exclaimed, then looked down at the movie projector case he was protecting, calculating in his mind. He had volunteered to go to the countryside with the factory's spring plowing and technical propaganda team, partly to actively respond to the superiors' call to "use art and literature to promote the socialist upsurge in the countryside," and partly because he did have some selfish motives. Ever since that simpleton Sha Zhu, because Engineer Wang (Wang Huanbo) and Deputy Factory Director Li mentioned it to him, actually became the head of the factory's canteen and even got a precious bicycle ticket, buying a brand-new "Forever" brand 28-inch motorcycle, he'd been showing off like crazy! He'd polish the bike until it shone, ring the bell loudly, and look down on everyone, especially Xu Damao, his chin practically hanging up like it could hold an oil bottle!

"Pah! What's with the attitude of a cook who just flips a wok!" Xu Damao spat inwardly. He was a cultured projectionist! A "literary worker"! This trip to the countryside to show movies and promote the commune system was a political task, an opportunity to show off! If he did well, the leaders would praise him when he got back, and maybe... He remembered the rumors circulating in the factory lately that the Red Star Factory was working on some new "motorcycle" project, supposedly a new technology brought back from abroad by Engineer Wang. That thing was much more impressive than a bicycle! If he could apply for one and ride it to the countryside to show movies... just thinking about it was wonderful! Then, let's see how Sha Zhu can show off with that broken bicycle! He could almost see himself riding a shiny motorcycle, chugging past Sha Zhu, leaving Sha Zhu with a look of envy, jealousy, and hatred. He couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Master Xu, what are you laughing at? What did you see?" Wang Jinshi asked curiously.

"Ah? No, nothing!" Xu Damao quickly suppressed his smile and said seriously, "I was thinking about how to show the villagers a good movie and explain the communization policy when we get to the village. Shitou, what do the villagers in your village think about the communization and this little cannon?"

At this point, Wang Jinshi became quite talkative, his tone turning serious: "How do you see it? At first, not many people understood! Especially the older folks, they felt uneasy about the land being collectively owned, afraid that they'd just put in the work without putting in any effort and wouldn't get any grain at the end of the year. But ever since the commune was established, with unified planting plans, organized irrigation canal construction, and sideline businesses, especially with the arrival of this 'little cannon,' hey! Things are different now!"

He pointed to a vast, leveled field by the roadside: "Look at this land. Before, it belonged to individual households, with narrow furrows and many bends, making it difficult for livestock to even turn around. Now it's much better. The boundaries are leveled, and small plots have been connected into large fields, perfect for tractors! Last autumn harvest, we used a small steel cannon with a combine harvester attached. That thing, it would 'whoosh, whoosh' across a field and cut down a huge swathe of wheat, equivalent to dozens of strong laborers! Threshing and threshing were also done with tractors pulling machines, fast and clean! The labor saved was used for water conservancy projects and composting. At the end of the year, many families received more in dividends than when they were working individually! Now everyone believes that the commune is powerful, and the machines are really good!"

"Look, this spring, the commune also provided our Wangjiazhuang with a small steel cannon, along with a matching plow, harrow, and seeder. I came back this time to use it for work! The village has selected a few young men to learn from me, and from now on, this will be our commune's own 'iron ox'! When we get to the fields later, I'll demonstrate to everyone how to use it to plow the land. It's incredibly deep, level, and retains moisture very well! It's ten times better than an ox-plow!" Wang Jinshi became more and more excited as he spoke, his dark face shining.

Xu Damao nodded repeatedly, his mind racing. This was ready-made, vivid propaganda material! Before the movie started, he'd have to tell the villagers about these changes, and then combine it with the content of the film—the effect would definitely be great! Maybe the comrades from the Beijing Film Studio who came to shoot the promotional video would even capture him speaking! That would be a real status symbol!

The tractor chugged past the iconic old locust tree, and the entrance to Wangjiazhuang village suddenly appeared before us. Mud-brick houses, stone walls, and wisps of smoke rising from chimneys—the familiar rural atmosphere was palpable. But today, the village entrance seemed unusually lively. Not only were many villagers gathered, but a green Liberation brand truck with a red star on its hood was parked there! Beside the truck, several people dressed in Zhongshan suits or cadre uniforms, with cameras around their necks and notebooks in their hands, were talking to the village cadres. Leading them was a middle-aged man in his fifties, with neatly combed hair and a refined air—Wang Yuanshan, the production brigade leader of Wangjiazhuang, and Wang Jinshi's father. Accompanying him were the commune secretary Chen Youwang and the brigade secretary Li Youtian.

When the red "Little Steel Cannon" came pulling its trailer, the crowd stirred. The children cheered, "Iron Bull is here!" "Brother Stone is back in his Iron Bull!" The adults also gathered around, pointing and talking, their faces filled with curiosity, excitement and pride.

Wang Jinshi smoothly parked the tractor next to the Jiefang truck and turned off the engine. The roar of the diesel engine ceased, and the world seemed to quiet down for a moment, leaving only the sound of the wind and the buzzing of the crowd. He nimbly jumped out of the cab and gave a somewhat awkward salute (learned at the factory) to his father and several leaders who came to greet him: "Reporting to the brigade leader, Secretary Chen, Secretary Li! Wang Jinshi, a tractor driver from the Hongxing Factory, has been ordered to drive a 'Hongxing Little Cannon' tractor, transporting projectionist Comrade Xu Damao and projection equipment, to Wangjiazhuang to support spring plowing and propaganda work! Please give instructions!"

Looking at his youngest son, who was a head taller than him and dressed in work clothes with a spirited air, Wang Yuanshan's dark face softened with wrinkles, but he tried to maintain his cadre's dignity, nodding and saying, "Thank you for your hard work, Comrade Shitou. Welcome, Comrade Xu Damao!" He then turned to the refined-looking middle-aged man and introduced him, "Director Zhang, this is Wang Jinshi, a young man from our Wangjiazhuang village. He learned to drive a tractor at the Hongxing Factory, and his skills are excellent! This spring's plowing is all thanks to him and this 'little cannon'!"

The middle-aged man addressed as "Director Zhang" was Zhang Shuihua, the director sent by the Beijing Film Studio to film a propaganda film on the theme of "Rural Communesization and Agricultural Mechanization." He looked Wang Jinshi up and down and at the red tractor, a look of admiration in his eyes. He stepped forward and shook hands with Wang Jinshi: "Comrade Wang, hello! We're from the Beijing Film Studio. We're here to film our commune's spring plowing, to show the huge role this 'Red Star Little Cannon' plays in agricultural production! You're one of the main characters! When we get to the fields, you'd better do your best!"

Wang Jinshi had never seen anything like this before. Praised by the renowned director, his face flushed even more. He scratched his head sheepishly, "Director Zhang, don't worry! I'll definitely drive it well! I'll make sure the machine obeys my commands!"

At this moment, Xu Damao also climbed down from the truck bed, straightened his hat and clothes which had been jostled about, and with a warm smile on his face, he jogged over, first bowing and scraping to Wang Yuanshan, Chen Youwang, and other cadres: "Captain Wang, Secretary Chen, Secretary Li, esteemed leaders, hello! I am Xu Damao, the projectionist from Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill. I have been ordered to come to our Hongxing Commune to show movies to the villagers, to promote the Party's good policies, and to publicize the superiority of the commune system!" He then turned to Zhang Shuihua, his tone even more respectful: "You must be Director Zhang from Beijing Film Studio? I've heard so much about you! I've long heard that your films are profoundly educational! It is my honor, Xu Damao, to work and learn from an artist like you! I will need your and the other teachers' guidance during the movie screening!"

Seeing that Xu Damao spoke fluently and with a respectful attitude, Zhang Shuihua nodded politely in return: "Xu, projectionist, thank you for your hard work. Your approach of using film promotion policies is excellent. We're also promoting our films. We have the same goal. We can discuss it later."

After exchanging pleasantries, the group crowded around the tractor and truck, heading towards the threshing ground. It had been leveled and was being used as a temporary screening area and spring plowing demonstration site. Wang Jinshi restarted the tractor, which chugled along behind, prompting the village children to chase after it, their laughter echoing all the way.

Almost the entire village, young and old, had gathered at the edge of the threshing ground. Men squatted against the wall, puffing on their pipes; women sewed shoe soles and chatted; children weaved through the crowd. All eyes were fixed on the red "little steel cannon" in the center of the ground and the green "Liberation" truck beside it. For most farmers who had spent their lives toiling in the fields, these two "iron machines" represented a strange yet powerful force, a new life they were striving to understand and embrace.

Wang Yuanshan jumped onto the millstone, clapped his hands loudly, and shouted, "Gentlemen! Quiet down! Look this way!"

The crowd gradually quieted down.

"Today, Wangjiazhuang is doubly blessed!" Wang Yuanshan's voice boomed, carrying the straightforwardness of a farmer and the authority of a brigade leader. "The first joy is that our commune's own 'Iron Ox'—the 'Red Star Little Cannon'—has officially settled in Wangjiazhuang! The driver is my family's Shitou! He received his proper training in a big factory in Beijing! From now on, we can rely on it for many heavy and tiring tasks, such as plowing, harrowing, sowing, harvesting, and threshing!"

The crowd erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers. Many elderly people looked at the red iron ox with complex emotions—doubt, expectation, but mostly the simplest yearning for "saving effort" and "producing more grain."

"The second piece of good news!" Wang Yuanshan continued, "The higher-ups have sent a top director and cinematographer from the Beijing Film Studio to film us using 'iron oxen' for spring plowing! To film our commune's bustling production! Once it's done, it'll be shown in cinemas across the country! Let the whole nation see how our Red Star Commune, how the members of our Wangjiazhuang commune, are following the Party, using new machinery to cultivate socialist fields!"

These words were even more inspiring! Making a movie? Showing it in cinemas nationwide? This was an immense honor! The crowd erupted in even greater excitement, with murmurs and gasps of amazement filling the air. Many young men puffed out their chests, and the young women smoothed their hair, all wanting to look their best in front of the camera.

"And there's more!" Wang Yuanshan pointed to Xu Damao, who was unloading cameras and lighting equipment from a truck with staff from the Beijing Film Studio. "This is Xu, the projectionist from the Red Star Film Studio! He brought the latest film, and we'll be showing it to everyone here at the threshing ground tonight! The film is about the benefits of our rural commune and using machinery! After you finish work and have dinner, come and watch! Bring your little stools!"

"Great!" "The movie's on!" "We'll watch a movie tonight!" The children jumped up with joy, and the adults beamed with happiness. In an era when cultural entertainment was extremely scarce, an open-air movie was no less than a grand festival.

After a simple welcoming ceremony, the real highlight began—a demonstration of spring plowing. Under the guidance of his father and several experienced farmers, Wang Jinshi drove the tractor to a pre-reserved experimental field of about five mu (approximately 0.33 acres) next to the threshing ground. This land had been deeply plowed after last autumn's harvest, but after a winter, the soil had hardened and needed to be re-plowed and harrowed before sowing.

The cinematographers from the Beijing Film Studio had already chosen their positions and set up their bulky Red Flag brand cameras, while their assistants held up reflectors. Director Zhang directed the operation intently. Xu Damao, forgetting about setting up his own projection equipment, squeezed to the front of the crowd, his eyes wide, pondering how he would explain the scene to his fellow villagers.

Wang Jinshi took a deep breath to calm his excited emotions. He checked the tractor's fluids, then went to the back of the vehicle and skillfully operated the hydraulic levers, slowly lowering a heavy, gleaming three-furrow plow suspended at the rear, its tip deeply embedded in the soil. This was the latest type of suspended plow he had specially requested from the Hongxing Factory before returning to the factory; it had a wide tillage width and an adjustable entry angle, making it far more advanced than the old-fashioned towed plows.

"Look closely, folks!" Wang Jinshi shouted, addressing both the villagers and the camera. "Now I'm going to use this 'little cannon,' with this new plow, to loosen up our land! See, is it faster, or is our old ox faster?"

After saying that, he jumped into the driver's seat and turned the key. The diesel engine roared again. He shifted into first gear, gently released the clutch, and the tractor moved forward steadily. The three-furrow plow behind him, like the sharp teeth of a giant beast, viciously cut into the compacted soil, neatly turning over the black, oily, still damp and icy mud, more than a foot deep! The soil rolled like waves behind the plowshares, exuding a fertile aroma. The tractor moved at a steady and powerful speed, much faster than a plow pulled by livestock, and plowed extremely deep and level.

"Wow! That's deep!"

"Look at that soil, how evenly and compacted it has been turned!"

"At this speed... won't they finish plowing an acre in no time?"

"Wow, this iron ox is incredibly strong! Look at that plow, it's digging through the dirt so fiercely!"

The onlookers gasped in amazement and admiration. The experienced farmers squatted at the edge of the field, grabbing a handful of turned-up soil, carefully examining it, nodding repeatedly as they observed the even depth and good moisture content. "Before," they said, "we used oxen to plow, walking alongside them. We could only plow two or three acres a day, and even then, we were exhausted." "This iron machine looks like it can finish in an hour!" they exclaimed. "Think of all the other things we could do with the manpower and time saved!"

Wang Jinshi drove the tractor back and forth across the field twice, leaving neat furrows that exuded the fragrance of soil. He stopped the tractor, switched to a disc harrow, and broke up and leveled the large clods of earth. Finally, he attached a demonstration model of a seeder (without seeds) and demonstrated how to complete furrowing, sowing, covering, and compacting in one go.

The entire demonstration was crisp, efficient, and seamless. The red tractor moved steadily across the black earth, leaving behind rows of leveled, ready-to-be-planted fields. Sunlight shone on the red star emblem on the tractor and on Wang Jinshi's focused face, as well as on the faces of the surrounding commune members, which were filled with surprise, joy, and hope. The cameras from the Beijing Film Studio recorded everything with a "whoosh," the cinematographer excitedly adjusting the focus, capturing every powerful detail.

"Stop!" Director Zhang shouted with satisfaction, leading the applause. "Excellent! Very good! Comrade Xiao Wang, your operation is skillful and your demonstration is spot on! This tractor is truly a formidable machine! It's incredibly powerful and efficient! This is the superiority of agricultural mechanization, this is the collective power that can only be unleashed under the commune system!"

Wang Yuanshan, Chen Youwang, and others were all beaming with joy. Facts speak louder than words; everyone had witnessed the power of this "little cannon." Many elderly people who had previously harbored doubts about collectivization and machinery now had different expressions, surrounding the tractor and Wang Jinshi with a barrage of questions.

"Stone, is this Iron Bull oil-guzzling machine expensive? Is it fuel-guzzling?"

"Brother Stone, is it easy to learn? I want to learn too!"

"Captain, could our village be equipped with a few more of these in the future?"

Wang Jinshi patiently answered, and Xu Damao seized the opportunity to step forward and chime in, using the loud voice and eloquence he'd honed from showing movies to loudly proclaim, "Fellow villagers! You've all seen it, haven't you? This 'Red Star Little Steel Cannon' was designed and manufactured by our own country! It's our working class's 'steel comrade-in-arms' supporting agriculture! Why couldn't we use it before? Because the land was owned by individual households, each piece the size of a palm, and the machines couldn't operate properly! Now, with the collectivization, the land is connected into large tracts, and these iron oxen can finally run freely! This is called the relations of production adapting to the development of productive forces!"

He paused, then, seeing the commune members listening attentively, became even more enthusiastic: "With the commune, we can concentrate our efforts on major projects! We can build irrigation systems, buy machinery, and practice scientific farming! Just like Comrade Wang Jinshi demonstrated, using machines to till the land is fast and efficient. The manpower saved can be used for sideline businesses—raising pigs and chickens, picking fruit in orchards, or working in the commune-run factories! At the end of the year, we'll distribute rewards according to our work—the more we work, the more we earn. How could life not be prosperous? Those Soviet collective farms in the movies use machines and science; they have more milk and bread than they can eat! Our Red Star Commune will be like that in the future!"

Xu Damao's words, though tinged with a propaganda tone, were remarkably persuasive when combined with the actual tractor performance before them. Many commune members nodded repeatedly, whispering among themselves, their eyes filled with anticipation for the future.

"The projectionist is right!"

"Yes, back when we were working alone, it was difficult to even build a canal, let alone buy this iron lump."

"It seems that communization is indeed the right path!"

Wang Yuanshan stepped forward at the opportune moment, waving his hand: "Alright! Everyone has seen and heard! This machine is good, and the path of collectivization is correct! But no matter how good the machine is, it still needs people to operate it, and no matter how good the road is, we still need to walk it step by step! The most important thing right now is to get spring plowing done well! Shi Tou is back, and the machine is here, so we can't slack off! Each production team, according to the plan, prepare seeds where needed and level the land where needed! Starting tomorrow, the 'Little Cannon' will officially go to the fields, led by Shi Tou, starting with the large field in the east of the village! For the other plots, use livestock where needed, and people where needed! We must fight a beautiful battle in spring plowing, not letting down the concern of our superiors, not letting down the strength of this 'Iron Ox,' and not letting down the comrades from the Beijing Film Studio! Does everyone have confidence?"

"Yes!!!" The thunderous response echoed across the threshing ground, filled with the simple, honest strength and determination of farmers to change the world.

As evening fell, the setting sun bathed the village and fields in a warm golden-red hue. Wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys, and the air was filled with the aroma of food. But the threshing ground was already bustling with people. Villagers from all around had heard that Wangjiazhuang was showing a movie that evening—a new film from Beijing, no less—and they had all come, young and old alike, filling the large, dark square with a cacophony of chatter.

Two thick bamboo poles had already been erected at either end of the field, with a snow-white screen edged in black cloth hanging in the middle. Xu Damao and his assistant (a young man sent by the commune to help) were busily working in front of the screen. The precious Yangtze River brand film projector was carefully placed on a sturdy square table and connected to a generator (powered by a tractor). Heavy tin canisters of film reels were opened, and the reels were carefully threaded into the projector's track.

Xu Damao had specially changed into a clean Zhongshan suit today, his hair neatly combed. He adjusted the equipment and checked the speakers, his expression focused and his movements meticulous. He knew this was not just an ordinary screening, but also an opportunity for him to showcase himself and strive for improvement. Director Zhang and several staff members from the Beijing Film Studio also sat in specially reserved seats in the front row, ready to watch the film and observe the projection effects and audience reaction.

The movie began. First, there was a news briefing, showing images of the vigorous development of the rural collectivization movement across the country, including reservoir construction, factory building, and Red Star tractors working in the fields. Next came the main film—a feature film depicting how a commune in Northeast China overcame natural disasters and achieved a bumper harvest by relying on collective strength and agricultural machinery.

When the screen showed rumbling tractors and combine harvesters, neat rows of fields, golden waves of wheat, and scenes of commune members joyfully receiving their dividends, the audience erupted in gasps of amazement and envious murmurs. When the cadres in the film explained the advantages of collectivization to the commune members, Xu Damao would occasionally interject with a few words of explanation, in a volume that wouldn't disturb the audience, drawing on the realities of the Red Star Commune:

"Look! Their tractors, just like our 'little cannons,' are all for the purpose of collectivization!"

"Look at how this irrigation canal was built! How could one household manage on its own? We have to rely on the commune!"

"This bountiful harvest is the result of collective effort, as well as the hard work of machinery!"

His narration was easy to understand and timely, often resonating with the audience and eliciting hushed discussions. Director Zhang watched from below, nodded slightly, and whispered to Chen Youwang, the secretary of the commune next door, "This projectionist is good. He adapts the film to the actual situation, not just showing it mechanically. He has the mind of a propaganda officer."

Chen Youwang nodded with a smile: "Yes, Comrade Xu was very attentive, and his explanation this afternoon was also very good."

Although Xu Damao didn't hear the director's affirmation, he could sense the screening's success from the focused eyes and excellent orderliness of the audience. He felt a surge of pride, as if he could already see the praise from his superiors back at the factory, and even… the motorcycle of his dreams seemed to be beckoning him. He couldn't help but think of Sha Zhu and that Forever bicycle. "Hmph, once I have a motorcycle…" A smug smile crept onto Xu Damao's lips, but his hands moved with even greater precision and fluidity.

The movie ended, and the sky was filled with stars. The villagers, still buzzing with excitement, dispersed in small groups, their flashlights and horse-hoof lamps flickering along the country lanes. Wang Jinshi helped Xu Damao pack up the projection equipment and load it back into the tractor trailer.

"Master Xu, you've worked hard today! You spoke very well!" Wang Jinshi said sincerely.

"Not at all, it's just part of my job," Xu Damao said modestly, but he was secretly pleased. "Shitou, you have a heavy task for spring plowing here, and you, the Iron Ox, are the main force! Keep up the good work! After you have a good harvest, I'll come and show you a movie celebrating the harvest!"

"That would be great!" Wang Jinshi smiled憨厚ly.

As night fell, the first spring plowing night in Hongxing Commune slowly came to a close, fueled by the new ideas brought by the film and the new hope brought by the "Little Cannon." Meanwhile, a more vibrant and challenging tomorrow, belonging to this land and its people, was approaching with great strides, accompanied by the roar of tractors and the march of communization, rising with the morning sun.