In Niuxin Village, Gao Zhijian's iron-cast fingers carved through the solid rammed earth as easily as an iron plow, leaving deep grooves behind.
"What are you drawing?" Chun Xiaoman frowned, looking at Gao Zhijian squatting on the ground. "Why don't you write instead? I've been learning some characters from the village school lately."
Gao Zhijian glanced at her, shook his head, and continued to draw.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? Are you looking down on me?" Chun Xiaoman reached out and gave him a hard push.
Feeling her palm on his shoulder, Gao Zhijian pursed his lips to suppress a laugh. He shook his head and buried himself in his drawing again.
"Is that a snake? Were you a snake-oil salesman in the past?"
"Dragon!" Gao Zhijian grunted.
With a sweep of his finger, a giant, coiling dragon appeared before Chun Xiaoman. Then, with quick dots and lines, he drew a seated person beneath it.
