Jiji shake the mountains north wind, the old Reliance stick Yanqian Li, Greed watch the White Rain treetop wind, float in the air I do not know to do the wet clothes. Entry into the year just thirty, feet beating Jiang Hu Chen acute Xi is a smell of wax shells sent the book, urgently bad flannel pleated pants seam. Ji Jin hair uncountable, tumbledown piles of rubbish embarrassed storm. Ru-Ru dead students were asked who, though not ask people from the sad heart.