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There is a wooden bridge in Nanshan, and Nanshan silently built a wall beside the wooden bridge to protect her from wind and rain and serve as her harbor. In spring, the mountains bloomed red for her, just because she said red was so good. In summer, he used his tall body to shade her from the sun and send wisps of breeze. Autumn invites the fiery red maple leaves to dance for her in the wind. In winter, I used my own stones to support the eaves bit by bit, and enjoyed the exclusive winter tranquility with the wooden bridge. And when did that lonely wooden bridge sense Nanshan who was guarding her, she stretched out her hands to him, and later...