The air after the rain has the sweetness of earth, and also a hint of strange fragrance. Li Mingyuan stood under his old locust tree with a crooked neck, and the yellow mud under his feet was washed away by the rain and became slippery. He had just returned from the city a few days ago, and the denim jacket he wore that had turned white after washing seemed a little out of place with the mist among the green mountains and green waters.
"Mingyuan, why are you dazed here?" A slightly hoarse voice came from behind the fence not far away. It was the third uncle, holding his decades-old dry pipe in his mouth and squinting his eyes to look at him.
