Xie Zhun was old, and his dry skin was lying in the garden basking in the sun. The spring scenery is beautiful, with butterflies dancing and birds flying, as if a female voice is singing in the ear on the spring breeze: "How can I say that I have no clothes, I share the same robe with my son..." Xie Zhun opened his eyes, the sky was still high and blue, but the singing voice was gone. A sigh drifted away far away.