Near noon, the fog gradually dispersed, and the Zhagana Negandawa Shenshan Park was visited. The park has not been fully developed. The road behind the mountain is full of people and horses. The road is full of horse shit and gravel. I have to go back early and walk back to the plank road at the entrance of the park. Looking at the village where I stayed last night, the Tibetan village was built on the mountain, and the freshly harvested wheat field grass field vegetable field was like a painter's color palette, or deep or shallow or yellow or green. It was so harmonious and so quiet. There were two Tibetan little boys in the plank road pavilion who wrote homework in Tibetan. There are stalls for renting out ethnic costumes outside the pavilion. It is estimated that their sister and mother will speak simple Mandarin. The little boy is shy and refuses to speak. I don’t know how to speak Chinese.