The scorching sun hits Qingyang Mountain.
This hilltop is either big or small, and the continuous emerald green seems to dye people's eyes. There is a dilapidated Taoist temple on the top of the mountain called "Qingxin Temple". The name is refined, but the place is really run-down. The green bricks on the courtyard wall were mottled and covered with moss, and even the wooden door seemed to fall down as soon as it was pushed.
Chen Nan was squatting in the corner of the yard, holding a curled kitchen knife in his hand, skillfully cutting into a hare he caught from nowhere. He was wearing a coarse cloth gown that had been washed white, and a pair of black cloth shoes with a hole in the toe, exposing most of his toes. He looks like an ordinary mountain man who has been hanging out in the mountains all year round, with a sense of idleness and laziness all over his body.
"Hurry up, you're so tired, do you still want to eat?"
An old man wearing a worn robe was lying on a rocking chair, holding a cattail leaf fan in his hand and fanning slowly. The old man's beard and hair were all white, but his eyes were shining brightly. Especially when he looked at the hare in Chen Nan's hand, he swallowed unconsciously.
