The breeze lifted the plastic leaves decorating the artificial trees, brushing across the faces of passersby.
The dim, yellow sunlight spread across the damp stone path.
Among the crisscrossing stone paths stood silent tombstones, these man-made, faux-stone markers stood like lonely trees, forming a desolate jungle.
And in the midst of this jungle stood an equally lonely figure.
He cradled a bouquet of fresh flowers, dressed in a crisp shirt, carrying a long bone axe and a wooden box, his face was gentle, seemingly refined, quietly standing before a tombstone.
The breeze lifted the stray hairs on his forehead, and the setting sun stretched his shadow along the path of stones.
"It seems there are very few people coming to sweep the graves today."
A woman in a short jacket approached him from a distance, speaking as she walked.
"After all, today's the day of the mid-term elections, people are either voting or at work."
He Ao gazed at the photo on the tombstone before him.
