Fresh blood plum blossom

Author: Yu Hua
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: Yu Hua Works Series. This book is written by Yu Hua, the first Chinese writer to win the Australian Hemingway Prize, featuring five of his short stories. These works record another path of the author's life. Unlike the real path of life, it has the possibility of beinged, and it is accurate. Although the passage of time will cause the paper to yellow and the handwriting to fade, each new publication brings it back to life, restoring its vivid image. These stories reflect multiple aspects of modernism, embodying profound humanistic care and returning this concern about the state of human existence to the basic and simple natural world.
Take another look at the young lady. There were many bloodstains on her body, as well as a lot of mud. Liu Sheng undressed the young lady, listening to the sound of clothes tearing. Shortly after, the young lady's body was revealed to be clean and white. Liu Sheng carefully washed away the bloodstains and mud on the young lady with the river water. By the time he reached the broken leg, the leg was in a terrible state, too gruesome to look at. Liu Sheng could not help but close his eyes, as the scene from yesterday's city vegetable market replayed in his mind, he moved the broken leg away.
Opening his eyes again, the broken leg was right before him. The marks of the axe chopping were scattered here, like the stump of a tree after being wildly hacked. The skin and flesh at the broken point were scattered and tangled together, a messy and torn scene. His fingers touched it, the disorganized flesh and skin were incredibly soft, while the sharpness of the broken bone made his fingers tremble. Liu Sheng stared for a long time, and that broken ruin seemed to appear faintly.
Soon, a pool of blood appeared on his chest. Liu Sheng carefully washed away the bloodstains, the wound from the sharp knife was torn open, the inside still red, just like a blooming peach blossom. Thinking that the wound was made by himself, Liu Sheng couldn't help but shudder. Three years of accumulated longing had finally turned into a knife strike. Liu Sheng couldn't believe such a fact.