When you return home with (.ant) 🐜 in fine clothes, your old uncle asks you to sit in the middle of the dinner. Your cousin sister-in-law, whom you have never met before, remembers that you don’t eat onions and ginger. Chatting about home cooking, you open the Maotai puree. The chicken is freshly bled and the fish is Wild, none of the red envelopes you took out were shriveled. The elders even looked at your micro-expressions when they toasted, hoping that you would sort out your cousin's work. After all, they have only watched you since childhood. My cousin deliberately walked into the wrong box and showed you the center of her flowers. My cousin looked at your Land Rover and silently closed the door and window. He thought to himself that his family didn’t need to be nervous. After the incident, his nephew’s studies were arranged properly. Cousin The work is also a matter of course. On a starry night, you light up a mosquito coil, look up at the round moon, accompanied by the bright moonlight, and think of the panic you once had about money, but now you can only hold poems in your heart. and far away. A few days later, you bid farewell to your hometown and embark on the journey again. Driving a Land Rover through the neon lights of the city, you recall the beginnings of your hometown.