The morning fog on the Bianhe River has not cleared away, like a piece of crumpled plain yarn, lazily spread on the sparkling waves. The willow silk on the shore hangs down to the water, soaking up some wet coolness. When the wind blows, it ripples in circles. The pier was already bustling with people, porters carrying goods shouted slogans, and merchant ships were busy unloading and loading goods. Mixed with the cries of vendors and the play of children, it formed a vivid morning scene in Bianjing.
