Playing the Pipa with Delicate Hands

The rain continued for several nights, and the number of pedestrians in Zhangzhou City became even thinner in the evening. The road leading to the city gate was already full of mud, and deep and shallow ruts covered the road leading to the city gate. Only the large foundation stone at the city gate was covered with mud and remained visible and flat. The two night guards on the city gate rubbed their hands and shouted: What a fucking weird thing, it just keeps raining. The weather in July turned out to be as cold as winter. Another guard said: After a stick of incense, the city gate should be closed, and it would be time to change the guard. The night swallowed up the entire city curtain, and suddenly a lightning bolt passed by. The two of them looked at where the lightning came from, and a carriage gradually appeared not far away. . . . . . This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.