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Early morning.
The golden pheasant dodged Wulong and flew onto the roof, treading the ridge and crowing at the sky.
The entire Liang Residence plunged into busyness.
Long Yao and Long Li walked without pause, tidying both inside and out.
The Big River Beaver paused its construction work and sat squatting by the tree pool, bringing its wife and children to prune the branches of the date trees in the courtyard.
Tree leaves and fine twigs rustled down.
Otter Kai, with Scarface holding a broom, swept the ground.
One in the front yard, one in the back, garbage scooped into the dustpan, buried under the ground—neither seeing the other.
A few Little Otters also were not idle, climbing onto the roof to help change tiles.
In early June, some tiles had inexplicably fallen off and had yet to be replaced.
The whole homestead presented a flourishing scene.
Rustle.
Warm water poured over black hair.
