Read 55 words of Hakka Old House

Modern high-rise buildings have sprung up like mushrooms after rain, and we have moved into the reinforced concrete forest. And do you still remember the old house where you lived when you were a child, the curling smoke from kitchen stoves and the dripping blue tile eaves? Old tiles are layered on top of each other.

Mottled with the vicissitudes of time.

Vegetable fields next to pigsty

Mother's work is still clear.

In front of the yard, my father is chopping wood.

Then pile up the firewood and put it neatly.

One afternoon, grandma wore reading glasses.

Concentrate on sewing.

Now, the peach blossoms are in bloom again.

Little friends are playing in the same old house.

Have gone their separate ways.

Childhood of every Hakka child

And a loyal local dog.

A ray of sunshine swept through the alleys and old doors between Hakka old houses.

It reflects the historical changes and vicissitudes of Hakka people.

Hand-woven bamboo baskets

It is a good helper for picking camellia oleifera and dressing up.

Newly bought Dong Lang,

Ma Di, sister, leave the day.

A dustpan can never be separated from a burden.

Wu Hengtianjing

old-fashioned square table for eight people

Every winter, the tin hip flask is filled with newly brewed rice wine.

Warm the body of a distant wanderer.