Borderland

About This Novel

Qili Shasha City is behind Shagang. After crossing the sand for seven or eight miles, you will reach Qinghe River. After boarding the boat, I took a little pennies and looked a few feet away. Where the clear stream broke, a pile of broken snow piled up. I could see the mud walls, tile houses, and haystacks on the other side hidden in the greenery. As for the trees, they are in the shape of a ball, hugging the house, and are green and solemn. Most of them are independent courtyards, with a layer of tile eaves inadvertently peeking out of a corner, and birds fluttering over them, full of life. The sound of the cow mooing is long and long, making people go deeper. Wild flowers cling to the bank, piled up like steps, sloping to the river bank, spread out, and become moist. With the beautiful river breeze, they become wet, twist a handful, and splash onto the bank, seeping into the tile walls, and the moss is thick and green; it touches the face, soaks into the muscles and bones, and scents the clear river. With just one throw of the boat, it is the thick soil of Qin bricks and Han tiles. The edge of the bank is meandering, in the mist of willows and willows, there are flowers deep enough. When the fragrance wets my shoes and socks, I look up suddenly and see that the world is full of chaos.

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