The red and yellow tulips in the sun are the most charming, like dancing ribbons, like our blood-red enthusiasm and occasional swagger, like the eternal Chinese heart of the descendants of Yan and Huang. Their splendor is close to the pulse of the earth. Only by squatting or crawling on the earth can I get closer to their heat. Therefore, I kept squatting and tilting my head to listen to the flower language of tulips.