The bright moon hung high, at the end of the corridor.,Thus, in the dilapidated kitchen, only Xiao Quan remained.,He gazed at the bright moon in the sky, and was reminded of a particularly fitting poem. He couldn't help but recite: "Before my bed, the bright moon shines, / Like frost on the ground it seems to be. / I lift my head to see the moon high, / And lower my head to think of home."。