On the Yellow River in September, the flood season has just passed, and Laohekou Town is soaked in continuous rain. The bluestone road is so slippery that people can be seen, the old locust tree at the entrance of the town has its neck crooked, and the broken fishing nets hanging on the branches are soaked by the rain. The dripping water mixes with the mud and forms small yellow puddles on the ground. The wind carried the smell of the Yellow River and poured into the alley, making the door curtains of each house crackle, as if invisible hands were pulling randomly.
