Dad, the clanging of the wooden board is such a classic sound—reminds me of when I was little helping to watch the cornfield. The crew working over there is really diligent!
The morning sun breaks through the mountains, and a stream of clear water winds through the green bamboo grove. The fragrant wine of the hometown wraps the nostalgia, and the flying butterflies dance through the fields.
[A stormy night at a rocky bridge, guarded by a lone, resilient watchman, who has stood strong through every tide, never letting harsh waves or fierce winds break his control.],
When you wipe water gently and prevent the air from getting into the baked food with a little phenol in the kitchen, the fragrant and rich aroma fills the small space.