Walking on the rickety wooden bridge, it was not even a bridge at all, because it was only a few thick planks fixed with iron nails, and a kind of gray-white silk rope was tied to the two ends, and the wooden bridge would shake faintly with every step of Yorkham Jones and his men on the bridge.

"Mr. Jones, we in Deno often compare ourselves to the planks under our feet, and we sway with the wind like the planks, and we don't even need the wind, we walk by ourselves..."

Buck was very talkative, and after taking two steps, he kept talking, and with the creaking and writhing sound of the gray-white silk thread, Buck continued:

"With every swing, the rope pulling the wooden bridge has a chance to break, and just like every resident of our Deno district, we are ready to face death at any time. ”

At this moment, the cold wind played lightly, and the stench of the ground immediately rushed up.

Buck took a deep breath, sucked the stench into his heart, into his soul, and he looked back at Yorkham Jones and Jingqing, and saw that the two did not react, and did not cover his nose with his hand, Buck couldn't help but wonder to himself:

"What a strange father and daughter, what are they here for? is it a newspaper reporter, or is it some police officer undercover, or something..."

Neither Yorkham Jones nor Kyrgyz replied, just using their eyes and ears to record their surroundings.

After walking for a few minutes, walking across the wooden bridge in a foul stench of about 10 seconds, when Yorkham Jones looked down, the stone buildings of the red brick villas had long been abandoned by them, and even the poplar trees had become the building timber of the houses.

The wooden and plastic houses rise to the top of five storeys, and the wood-paneled balcony gardens extend with a touch of verdant and colour, looking like a special resort.

The wood-nailed street was not very spacious, but it was large enough for four or five people to walk side by side at the same time, and there were bamboo pieces on both sides to form a guardrail, and a little dirt was fixed to the bamboo fence by low earthen pots.

In the attic, mothers are washing their children's clothes, girls and boys are reciting love poems to each other across the low floors, a group of half-grown children are gathered in a slightly larger corner, and an old man with rust-rimmed glasses is giving them a lesson on a blackboard.

The place where the books are stacked is overgrown with winter flowers, and the colorful flowers are desperately sucking nutrients from the thin soil, just like everyone in Deno District who is working hard.

In this way, the inhabitants of the old town of Deno, the Nord slum, a region that represents backwardness and ignorance, built their houses on it, found a corner of survival in the dirty and dilapidated land, and built it into a beautiful home.

Yorkham Jones didn't have time to feel the amazing design of which master, looking at the crowd coming and going, looking at the lively and laughing atmosphere, in a trance, he thought he was in St. Cotine Square.

"If it weren't for the sordid underground environment that people don't want to get close to, maybe this would have become a famous attraction for Ijonsen. Yorkham Jones thought.

"Mr. Jones, are you surprised, is it not the same as you imagine the ghetto. ”

Buck squeezed his wrinkled face slightly, smiled, and said to himself:

"The more people at the bottom, the more they yearn for life, they don't want much, they just need a little nutrient to provide their own growth, they will become a beautiful flower, a person who can contribute to this era. ”

"Buck!"

From the attic on the fourth floor in front of the left, a girl shouted from the same age as Qinqing, with a red face, a cheap dress that was not very clean, and a bright red flower on her chest.

Suddenly, the girl picked up a basin of water in both hands and threw it out of the balcony, and the warm sunlight reflected a colorful cloud in the falling droplets.

"You're skipping class again!" Buck yelled at once.

"Hee-hee, I see you have a business, I'm going to eat fried chicken tonight!" the girl put down the plastic basin in her hand and pulled her braid on the balcony plank.

"Hurry down to class!" Buck frowned and yelled again.

"I'll come down in a minute, I'm going to feed Bo Bo first. As she spoke, the girl picked up a bowl.

"Hey..."

Shaking his head, Buck turned to look at Yorkham Jones:

"Mr. Jones, who is my granddaughter, whose parents died in a plastic factory accident two years ago and now lives with me. ”

Buck sighed again:

"It was because of the compensation for the accidental death of my daughter and son-in-law that my granddaughter and I were able to move here from the high-density greenhouse area..."

Then, Buck looked at his granddaughter with doting eyes, watched four or five white gulls fall in front of his granddaughter, and watched his granddaughter happily take out the grains from the bowl and feed them to the white gulls, Buck whispered softly:

"Mr. Jones, life is always easy to read, isn't it?"

"Fate always favors those who grow in suffering. Yorkham Jones replied softly, for he could tell that Babble was asking his own question.

Looking up, the girl had finished feeding the white gulls, she was happily carrying her skirt in circles, and several white gulls were also circling her.

After a few turns, the granddaughter gasped a few times on the board, and then, with her mouth slightly open, began to hum a cheerful melody.

At the same time, the white gull, hovering beside her, also landed on the plank and accompanied the girl to chirp neatly.

The sound quickly rose into the air, and suddenly, hundreds of white gulls flew out from behind the house, and they began to dance to the song, like elves in the white clouds

The pedestrians around them began to stop, and the people on the floor also came to the balcony, all of them looking at the seagulls and humming to the rhythm.

"Have you ever been to the Deno Market?

Chase and sing on the shaky wooden bridge.

The clouds are empty quilts,

The girl was lying on the ground.

The white gull sings,

The sunset burns the rosin,

The white skirt rests on the dead leaves,

......”

Listening to the cheerful ballad turn to pathos, Yorkham Jones was not saddened by this, because he saw a very magical picture.

With the help of the vision of the Eye of Light, the white gulls dancing in the white clouds have been outlined into paper gulls made of white paper and appeared in the eyes of Yorkham Jones

Yorkham Jones was not surprised, for Éjnson was too far from the sea, and it was impossible for the White Gull to live in the city

These paper gulls are controlled by transparent notes, and the notes affect all the singers with the help of the paper gulls, as if these songs are not sung by everyone at all, but those transparent notes come out with the help of an open mouth.

The musical notes, the paper gulls, and the crowd are connected to each other in a long transparent line, and all point in one direction.

PS: Chapter 2... Chapter 3 is about 4 o'clock.

Come on.