"Sigh, what a pitiful sight. I'm afraid the whole family is dead." On the grave beside them, there were two Yin souls. When he saw Jiang huailu, his face was full of sympathy. This child looked only five or six years old, but he had become an orphan.
"Just now, there was a fourteen to fifteen-year-old teenager, called Huai 'an or something. I felt bad when I saw him holding back his tears in front of the grave. Two figures were sitting on the graves, eating the offering fruits and commenting.
"During the Qingming Festival, it rains heavily, and the pedestrians on the road are almost dead. It's true ..."
As soon as he finished speaking, he saw the sorrowful girl suddenly lying on the grave.
"Grandfather, come out and drink some wine." He gently tapped the inscription.
Her voice became excited and cheerful.
The figure on the grave beside him paused for a moment.
He ... Drinking?
