On the land of the Hakka people in southern Jiangxi.
There was a young man who especially liked to blow the gourd shreds.
Whether it was on the roof of his house.
Whether it was at the bus station in the town.
No matter if it was at the school gate of a town.
No matter if it was in a bustling city.
Whether it was in the cultural center of Anyuan County.
Whether it was in the park in the middle of the street in Anyuan.
Regardless of whether it was in Tang Village.
This young man.
Every day, he would play for an hour.
Or half an hour's worth of Hulusi.
Whether it was the hot weather or the climate change.
No matter if it was in the cold winter.
Whether it was on the morning of spring or summer.
It was still a slightly cold evening in autumn and winter.
He could hear it everywhere.
He played the calabash flute.
In the rural area of southern Jiangxi.
The sound of gourd silk in the depths of the distant mountains.
It echoed throughout the entire mountain village.
This book comes from：m.funovel.com。