It was a hot summer day. I was sitting and chatting with an elderly Miao man. She told me many stories about the past. While telling me, she sometimes lowered her head to wipe her tears, sometimes danced with joy, sometimes sang Miao songs loudly, and sometimes remained silent. Perhaps, some beautiful things can only be recorded through works, and some simple things can only be presented through works. The mountains, rivers and emotions are exactly my original intention of writing to express my emotions. In the age of impetuous and fast-paced life, in the age of being blinded by material things, can that pure age be remembered?
Purpose: To show the simplicity and innocence of love of the Miao people