No one dared come near the coffin. The village chief read the eulogy at the side with a trembling voice, his voice was choppy, as if the wind had strangled his neck. The suona had stopped playing long ago and no one dared to play it. Several young men carrying the coffin knelt behind, their foreheads touching the ground, and beads of sweat on the back of their necks fell into the soil drop by drop.
