In the morning, when she woke up, Ding Yiyi opened her eyes and covered herself with a soft, sunburnt quilt. Her nose was filled with the smell of soap used to wash sheets when she was a child.

She got up and the people beside her were still asleep, like a child, quiet and childish.

Wash and wash, go out lightly, Dad's room is open, the room is empty.

Under the vines in the courtyard, Ding Dacheng was sprinkling flowers. Although he was watering a row of meat, his ears were always corrugated and his eyes looked out frequently.

When the bicycle bell rang, he immediately put down the flowers...