She Wuluan's soul stayed for the twenty-fifth day at Pine Wave Pavilion.
In Yancheng, the autumn rain poured ceaselessly.
The bird seller holding a small birdcage, wearing short boots, stood under the eaves at the street corner, where the water from the eaves formed lines, and the sunken gutters on the side of the street turned into a babbling stream.
Passers-by hurried along the road, wearing straw capes and bamboo hats.
The little women holding painted oil-paper umbrellas, lifting their skirts, did not care for the bird seller's pitch of the black-feathered myna that could say "May you be auspicious."
Hooves clattered rhythmically on the waterlogged street with a "tada-tada" sound.
"Yi yi yi~!"
The sound of several horses being reined in came from in front of the tea shop, where four or five tall men with broad machetes on their back, looking quite fierce, had appeared.
With a calm face, the tea shop boy asked them what tea they would like.
