The first class is in the wrong classroom.
They smiled at the extra me.
Not quite the same as the people in our village.
The girl who kissed for the first time
First injury
My milk taught me the first word.
The first poem written for that who.
Bajiahu my small village
Houses have been built in the farmland.
Only the moonlight shines, as before
Bajiahu my small village
The wall is covered with white tiles.
Only the snow is falling, as before.
Full-length