Hai Ri is born and the night is over, and Jiang Chun is entering the old year.
Thousands of sails pass by the side of the sunken boat, and thousands of trees spring in front of the diseased trees.
The sound of firecrackers marks the end of the year, and the spring breeze brings warmth to Tusu.
Talented people have emerged from generation to generation, and each has led the way for hundreds of years.
The flowers are similar every year, but the people are different every year.