One night in the spring one hundred years ago, there was an old unfinished woodshed in Fenshuitang Village, Yiwu, Zhejiang. There are two benches in it to set up a board, which is both a bed and a desk. At the desk, a young man is writing a book. It was early spring and it was quite cold. At night, the biting cold wind struck, numbing his hands and feet, but he never forgot to sleep or eat.

In order to make up for her son's health, the mother specially wrapped zongzi and mixed some hometown specialty brown sugar. Mother sent zongzi and brown sugar in. After a while, she asked outside, "Is brown sugar enough? Do you want me to add more? "

The son replied, "Sweet enough, sweet enough!"

Who knows, when the mother came in to clean up the dishes and chopsticks, she found her son's mouth full of ink, but the brown sugar did not move at all. It turns out that my son actually ate mo Xiang zong zi!