Ji He was standing on a country road. The soft soil under his feet when he was a child was replaced by the cold and hard asphalt. Not far away, the house that was rumored to belong to the Juren Master was about to be demolished and rebuilt. The sound of tractors harvesting wheat was faint, and the bleating sounds of herds of cattle and sheep could be rarely heard. Time rolls forward, and good wishes can never lock reality.
Conception: