Spring rain was like silk.
The misty drizzle from the sky, fine as ox hairs, fluttered down, rendering the peaks in the early morninga hazy layering of drizzle-like gauze, faint and ethereal, like fog or mist.
A few pieces of wet joss paper scattered beside the road, accompanied by a faint, sorrowful wailing, added a touch of melancholy to the spring rain.
"Father, your daughter is living well now, and my husband treats me kindly. Rest assured, and stay with mother more..." Zhang Shuniang's eyes were moist, and after speaking, she bowed with deep respect and kowtowed three times.
Chen Li stepped forward to pay his homage.
He was filled with sorrow!
Alas, Brother Zhang, rest assured that I will definitely take good care of Shuniang.
A breeze blew by, lifting several pieces of paper money into the air before the grave, circling around in place and reluctant to fall, as if there really was a response.
