The streets in this urban village are so narrow, but there are things on both sides. Meng Hai was sitting on his bed in a small hotel in an urban village, where there were many sounds, and he could hear the sound of people shouting, walking, and haggling when buying groceries. The various sounds are very charming. Meng Hai liked this kind of sound that was a little noisy, but not harsh. The voice is warm and likable.

In a humble house, drinking wine, drinking and drinking, drunk.

Meng Hai has been in a state of drifting for a long time, he has an unstable heart, he always wants to go to a far place, and when he arrives at a place, he wants to go to a farther place, the journey is bumpy, the journey is tiring, but he is never tired of it.

Meng Hai is a casual state, he lives as he likes, sleeps until he wakes up naturally every day, sometimes it is a wisp of breeze that wakes him up, sometimes it is a piece of sunshine that wakes him up, sometimes it is the birdsong in the early morning that wakes him up, sometimes it is the noise of the market that wakes him up, it seems that the things that wake him up every day are different, this feeling of being in a different place every day, this feeling of going deep into the world and mixing the world, makes Meng Hai happy, happy, serene, peaceful, Meng Hai likes this state today.

Meng Hai got up from the morning sun, this sunlight through the window, not much, but it fell on his face and woke him up. It wasn't the sunlight that shone on his eyes and woke him up, but the faint temperature of the sun, warming his cheeks a little bit, and he was awakened by this temperature.

The battlefield in Meng Hai's memory is bloody and terrifying. The waving of the sword and the roar of the warrior are still vivid in the eyes and the sound in the ears, and that kind of panic still remains in Meng Hai's spirit.

For a few years, Meng Hai's mental state was tense, every day he was like a crying child, a child who couldn't find a home, crying at the sky, this kind of soul crying state is a kind of helplessness in the face of reality, a kind of pain in life.

Because he was a soldier at that time, and the days of fighting on the battlefield were as bitter as rough sand.

Meng Hai took the flying stone and flew above the white clouds. The smooth and delicate stones, beautiful and warm, carry Meng Hai and move forward at great speed. During this time, he had not flown in the sky, but today he flew, and he saw the psychedelic sunlight blooming in the sky, this spectacular visual experience shook Meng Hai's heart.

The air in the air is very good, and the field of vision is wide enough, flying in the air is a pleasure, and Meng Hai did not descend from the sky until the afternoon.

Walking forward, the air became a little humid, and the clammy and cold made Meng Hai uncomfortable, he was not used to the climate here.

The sheep and sheep have white hair and white beard, not because of snow, but because of old age.

Sheep and sheep look up to the sky to see the snow, the snow falls from the sky, the sky is so empty, where is the hope?

Meng Hai followed Yang Yang to his stone house. Yang Yang was sad in his heart, looking for his son and couldn't find it, and he was anxious.

The wicked people of Baiyushan endanger the lives of many innocent people, which has aroused the great attention of Ye Duhong.

Meng Hai sat on a chair in the sheep stone house, this room is not big, but it is quite good to have such a residence.

Some wicked people quibble that robbery also requires hands, and robbery is also a labor. This is strong words, they hurt people, they still want to have a sense of honor, they hurt people, and they want to win awards.