In the spring when the flowers were in full bloom that year, I met a few Du Juan.
They built their nests on my eaves, and every morning they would wake me up on time and follow me to work in the fields. Occasionally he would bring me small gifts and sing to me every day. I don't think so, and I stroke their cerebellar axes to show my love for them.

Spring and winter came, and they went to look for a place to spend the winter, and I was still waiting for them to return.