Dangdang... The bells of the customs building alarmed the early flying pigeons. Xi's whistle of the pigeons, mixed with the whistle of foreign ships on the Huangpu River, painted the mist in the morning of Shanghai. The jingle of the tram, the sound of the manure-inverting truck, mixed with the shouts of buying breakfast, one by one alley, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, one by one, the jingle of the tram, the jingle of the tram, the sound of the help of the huddle truck, the sound of the help of buying breakfast, the sound of people began to walk around.