Walk through neon-lit streets.
Desert smoke. Enter the wax moon to open the mode of saying goodbye to the old and welcoming the new.
Gradually, workers began to be busy in the four streets and eight alleys.
Lamps of different shapes, pulling and pulling threads.
Climb high and prostrate to the bottom, and the bare branches show off your personality.
Neon lights are blooming brilliantly at night.
The familiar streets ripple with exaggerated colors.
Pedestrians float on the bizarre pavement.
The look of surprise smeared with the shadow of emptiness.
Walk through the streets of a small town lit up with a sea of lights.
The story of folding and storing 365 days.
Some joy and sorrow are insignificant.
You see, the vast starry sky is always silent.
Winter by the Chenjiang River.
Mei Shanzi. There was a thick ink in the distance.
Closely, it was lightly gray and lightly dyed with makeup.
A playboy who walked out of the mountains of Chenjiang.
Completely ignoring the cold's reproach.
Vultures are surging. Revolutionize perception.
On the left bank, the towering forests of steel are becoming more and more dense.
Right bank. Yuhou Street East Street.
More and more prosperous, more and more enchanting.
The gloom is just a distant memory.
Standing by the Chenjiang River, I don't know the pain of the willow tree.
I saw the willow tree hanging its head.
There's something melancholy in the sky behind.
A swallow flies alone.
Kaiping watchtower. Donny Ram.
From this shore to the other.
The distance of a watchtower.
Rebar confesses a piece of history.
Noah's Ark was anchored in his arms.
The ocean flies slowly.
Put on a searchlight.
The wind blows from the West.
Drinking whiskey.
Boxes of treasures.
How many piglets can't see the stars.
The blood and tears of generations of overseas Chinese.
From the shoulder ridge to give birth to the yellow-flowered wind wood bell.
The years of the scarred years.
Still rooted in Kaiping.
Small bridges, flowing water, fields.
Motherly tenderness.
The watchtowers are the ribs that stand up.
Rheumatism is thrown away from home.
Calcium supplementation is only with the Chinese soul.
The Great Cold. Liang Yongguo.
Heavy snow. Father is by the wall.
With that black date tree.
Stand still.
A few black dates. Dry and shrunken on the branches.
Bent down the body.
Spit out a series of dry coughs.
These things that have suffered so much.
Some have already slept.
Some are still at the end of the year.
Awake in the cold wind.
Meet you. Blue Nights.
That day. You have come to earth.
The river rose and rose.
I didn't see it.
Occasionally squatting by the river.
but they saw your face.
Much like me. The look of a heartbeat.
From then on I thought-
It was providential to meet you.
It's just predestined.
I have nothing to do with you in this life.
Smoke and rain in the south. Yao Shiying.
Nanyu Temple in the middle of the mountain.
Clouds obscured the mist. The lawn is facing the temple and resembles a release pond.
It's just that it's noisy beings.
I came on the fifth day of the first month.
The pool was full of splashes.
Facing the slanting wind and drizzle.
Climb the stairs. My mood followed the Sanskrit chanting.
Melodious. Then through the smoke and rain.
Back to the snacks, hair salons, herb shops.
Nanyu Street. Fireworks on earth.
Suddenly it has a different connotation.