Bai Yu carried his backpack and walked for dozens of miles through the mountain paths until he finally saw Zhangjia Village.

In the distance, he could see the shimmering rice fields, with an occasional white egret flying out from the mountain ridges to peck at snails and loaches in the fields.

By now, it was almost noon, and wisps of cooking smoke were rising from the village.

Not far from the village entrance, a child sat on the back of an ox, playing a flute with a carefree melody.