Several bamboo houses nestled at the foot of a hillside, devoid of any modern touch, yet they also lacked the aesthetic charm of antiquity. They were simply shabby houses with bamboo walls and thatched roofs. Deep in Zhou Li's memory, his kindergarten had looked somewhat similar; it was converted from a clan hall of a Lan family in the village. Such houses were drafty, making them uncomfortable to live in.
Faint noises emanated from inside.
The language was obscure, delivered in a long, drawn-out chant with fluctuating pitches and rhythmic pauses. Zhou Li couldn't understand it at all, recognizing only the calm voice of an old man, with several children's voices copying him.
"Jiangnan may harvest lotuses; how expansive are the lotus leaves..."
"Jiangnan may harvest lotuses; how expansive are the lotus leaves..."
"The fish play..."
The sound suddenly stopped.
