A few days later, the golden thread of the rising sun penetrated the hazy white mist of the morning, and saw black hills continuously surrounding the entire village. Black-capped sparrows flew up in groups deep in the dense forests of the Black Hills, constantly making shrill calls and hitting the lamp oil hanging on the village gate beam. In an instant, the sleepiness of the villagers was driven away. Gradually, there were people on the loess path between each house.
They slowed down their pace, lowered the volume of their speech, and gathered outside the ancestral hall.
Everyone looked up and saw Liu Defu wearing a mask, a blue Taoist robe, a five-old crown on his head, a pair of black cloth shoes with tied legs on his feet, and a heavy ghost-headed staff in his hand covered with white spots.
Concept: humanity, love