Things About My Growing Up
by Falling Flowers Return At Night
About This Novel
It was another year when Qingming Festival was approaching, and it was drizzling. I was walking alone on the way back to the village, looking at the small earthen bags (old graves) on the roadside, and feeling the coolness brought by the touch of the drizzle. I can't help but sigh that the air in the countryside is better.
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