Wu Zifei's funeral did not end until the afternoon, and it began to rain heavily in the gloomy sky.
The autumn rain was cold, and Wu Chenjin put his coat on Song Nuanyi.
They were not in a hurry to go home. Instead, they went to a lighthouse.
The Capital city happened to be on the edge of the North Sea. There were always a lot of busy sailors and cargo carriers in the bay here. The lighthouse was their starting point, and it was also the mark for the harbor.
The heavy rain poured down from the sky like a waterfall. The rain fell on the car window, making a fierce sound. The dense flow of water blurred their vision.
Wu Chenjin looked at the lighthouse in the distance silently. The white light of the lighthouse would turn once every minute, so every minute, the white light would pass through the rain and sweep across his face.
