How did hiring someone to press a pig image during Chinese New Year become a top trend?

The lights in the White Rabbit canteen stayed on all night; no one in Xujia Village slept that night.

Even the dog at the village entrance excitedly ate two extra bowls of leftover rice, and Uncle Xu Qiang had long since taken off his expensive mink coat.

He was wearing a tank top, revealing a dragon tattoo on his arm that he had gotten from his youthful days in the underworld.

At this moment, this multi-millionaire boss is squatting at the entrance of the cafeteria, holding a pair of pliers in his hand.

Like a skilled worker on an assembly line, he was there struggling with pine nuts.

"Click."

Five pieces.

"Click."

"Ten yuan."

As the second uncle peeled the shells, he muttered to himself. The worker next to him was dumbfounded and quietly asked Xu An.

"Brother An, is Second Uncle settling accounts?"

Xu An, holding his phone, huddled inside his cotton-padded coat and sighed helplessly.

"No."

"He was mentally preparing himself."

"After all, this sack is equivalent to eating the tires of one of his BMWs."

The live stream's popularity didn't decrease but increased; even though it was late at night on the second day of the Lunar New Year, the number of online viewers soared to over 100 million.

This is not a fictional story; these are real, living people.

Everyone wanted to see what it would be like for the elderly couple who had missed each other for forty years to finally have their reunion dinner.

[ID Actuary]: Uncle's pine nut fell on the ground! Quick, pick it up! That's enough for me to buy a roujiamo (Chinese hamburger)!

[ID Foodie]: Tangyuan filled with wild red pine nuts? This is a feast fit for a state banquet!

[ID Single Dog]: I'll give 200 yuan! I absolutely have to drink at this wedding! Even though I don't have a partner yet, I'll take this dose of PDA!

Inside the kitchen, steam was rising, and Aunt Wu, along with the village's women's team, was putting the final "assembly" together.

The snow-white glutinous rice dough was kneaded until soft and chewy, and filled with lard, sugar, and those red pine nuts that cost "five yuan each".

Roll it into a ball.

Put it in the pot.

The water in the large iron pot had long been boiling, churning with white waves, much like the bubbling night.

"Time to cook!"

Aunt Wu shouted out, her voice carrying the charm of Henan opera, and hundreds of plump, white glutinous rice balls jumped into the pot like dumplings being boiled.

A short while later.

The unique aroma of pine resin, mixed with the sweet fragrance of glutinous rice, filled the entire cafeteria.

The flavor was so strong that it instantly pulled my second uncle out of the agony of "settling accounts."

"Is it ripe?"

Uncle Er threw down the pliers and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Sheng!"

"Serve Uncle Stone and Aunt Flower first!"

"Choose the bigger one!"

Xu An was carrying an enamel basin with a large red double happiness character printed on it.

This pot was donated by Third Master. He said it was the one he used when he got married and had been kept in a trunk for forty years.

The bowl was filled with glutinous rice balls, each one round and plump, glistening with oil.

Xu An walked to the large round table that had been pieced together.

Grandpa Stone had already washed his hands very carefully. He used a brush to scrub the stone dust out of his fingernails again and again.

Until those calloused hands revealed their original flesh color, rough but clean.

He didn't want to dirty the bowl of glutinous rice balls, and he certainly didn't want to dirty the red cotton-padded jacket next to it.

Grandma Hua sat beside him, her hand still tightly gripping the pebble, which had been warmed by her palm.

"Aunt Hua, Grandpa Stone."

"Dinner's ready."

Xu An put the basin down quietly, knowing that the stone couldn't hear him.

But he saw that Grandpa Stone's nose twitched.

The tough guy who had spent his whole life carving stones swallowed hard, just like a child.

He didn't touch his chopsticks, but instead picked up a spoon, scooped up a glutinous rice ball, and blew on it.

He blew hard, his cheeks puffed out, until he felt it wasn't too hot, and then carefully brought it to Granny Hua's lips.

Grandma Flower couldn't see, but she smelled the fragrance and felt the spoon touch her lips.

Somewhat clumsy, some trembling, that was the tenderness that couldn't be given forty years ago.

Grandma Flower opened her mouth and took a bite.

Soft and chewy.

Sweet.

The oil from the pine nuts bursts in your mouth, carrying the fresh scent of a vast forest.

"Is it sweet?"

Someone asked a question, and as Grandma Hua chewed, tears streamed down her face and fell into her bowl.

"sweet."

"Sweeter than White Rabbit Creamy Candy."

"These pine nuts...were they a gift from that comrade-in-arms named Old Wei?"

Although Granny Hua was blind, her mind was as clear as a mirror. Xu An nodded in agreement, even though Granny Hua couldn't see.

"Yes."

"Old Wei said this is for the children."

"But you two are the oldest 'kids' in our village today."

The live stream chat went wild at that moment, with gifts and special effects flooding the screen as if they were free.

The screen was filled with red, as if a cyber wedding had been held for the elderly couple.

[ID Civil Affairs Bureau]: I've swallowed the official seal! I'm locking this certificate away from you!

【ID Pure Love God of War】: Who says love has to be dramatic? This bowl of glutinous rice balls is forever!

[ID Intangible Cultural Heritage]: This is true Chinese romance! Subtle, but deadly!

Just then, Xu An felt his phone vibrate.

It's not a message, it's a notification from the platform's backend.

The red number jumped for a second.

From 399.9 million.

It became 400.0 million.

Followed by.

400.1... 400.5...

Xu An was stunned. Four million followers? He just... became a major internet celebrity?

There was no script, no competition, no product promotion; all they needed were two pigs, a letter, and two bowls of glutinous rice balls.

There's also... a self that, despite being socially awkward, is genuinely sincere.

Xu An looked at the number, but felt no ecstatic joy as he had imagined.

Instead, it has a... heavy feeling.

These four million are not just numbers; they represent four million pairs of eyes and four million expectations.

"Family members."

Xu An pointed the camera at the steaming bowl of glutinous rice balls, and also at the elderly couple feeding each other.

Thank you for your attention.

"These four million followers are not mine."

"They're from Xujia Village."

"It belongs to Old Wei, to Grandpa Stone, and to Granny Flower."

"It belongs to everyone... who hasn't had a chance to say 'I love you' yet."

"Today's wedding banquet was enjoyed virtually by everyone."

"We still have to keep going tomorrow."

After Xu An finished speaking, he quietly withdrew from the crowd, leaving the excitement to the elderly.

This is the self-awareness of someone with social anxiety. Even after becoming a million-follower internet celebrity, he is still Xu An, who likes to huddle in a corner peeling corn.

He returned to the corner where the tin box was, where his second uncle was still peeling pine nuts, secretly eating some as he peeled.

"Second Uncle, stop eating."

"If we keep eating like this, we'll lose money."

Xu An made a joke, and his second uncle rolled his eyes at him and stuffed a freshly peeled pine nut into Xu An's mouth.

"Eat yours!"

"Stop talking nonsense!"

"I just checked the backend, it's reached four million?"

Although my second uncle seems unreliable, he has an extremely high sensitivity to data.

"Um."

Xu An chewed on the pine nut that cost five yuan; it smelled delicious.

"Four million."

"So what's next?"

Uncle wiped his hands, and his expression suddenly became serious.

"This hype came quickly and went quickly."

"This letter is delivered, now for the next one?"

"You can't always expect me or Lao Wei to have such interesting stories."

Xu An nodded. His second uncle was right.

Life isn't a TV drama; it doesn't have so many dramatic twists and turns. Most of the time, life is just like a bowl of plain porridge without sugar.

It was bland and dull. Xu An reached out and felt around in the tin box. Three letters had already been sent out.

Each letter is a piece of a long-forgotten story.

Each letter was heavy enough to weigh down your hand.

This time, Xu An touched something hard, not an envelope, but something like... a round piece of metal.

Xu An took it out; it was a rusty iron box, only the size of a palm, like the kind used to store face cream.

Or perhaps... a film canister? Xu An struggled to unscrew the lid, but there was no letter inside.

There was only a thinly rolled, yellowed, and brittle strip of paper, and half a movie ticket... torn in half.

The ticket stub has blurry red lettering printed on it:

[Liuwan Commune Open-Air Cinema]

[Title: Shaolin Temple]

[Time: 1982...]

The month and date were torn off.

The note contained only one sentence, written in the kind of pencil commonly used by elementary school students. The handwriting was childish, yet it exuded a fierce determination.

[To projectionist Lao Zhao:]

You're lying!

You said you'd teach me kung fu after filming "Shaolin Temple"!

You left halfway through the movie!

I've been waiting for you behind the screen for three days!

[Give me back my ticket money! Five cents!]

Xu An stared at the note, stunned.

Five cents? A movie ticket that wasn't even finished? And a... projectionist who ran away?

This script looks familiar... Is it another story of starting something and then abandoning the person?

wrong.

Xu An examined the signature carefully.

It has no name.

It only depicts a... pistol.

It wasn't a real gun; it was one of those wooden pistols that only kids would play with.

"Projectionist Lao Zhao..."

Xu An muttered to himself, and his second uncle leaned over to take a look, his brows furrowing.

"Liuwan Commune?"

"Isn't that the village where Aunt Liu Shufen lives?"

"Shaolin Temple was released in 82?"

"I remember that year it was a huge sensation; people from all around came to see it."

"But I don't remember a projectionist named Old Zhao?"

"Wasn't the projectionist back then that lame Li?"

Xu An shook his head.

He didn't know, but he had a feeling that this five-cent debt was probably heavier than the hundred pounds of pine nuts.

Because it was a child's obsession, an obsession about "kung fu dreams," about "promises," and about "waiting."

"Family members."

Xu An waved the tattered movie ticket at the camera.

"The wedding is over."

"We should get to work."

"Next stop."

"Let's go and finish this half of the movie..."

"Whether that old Zhao ran away or died."

"I owe the child five cents..."

"It must be repaid!"