In the 73rd year of the Republic of China, Lu Jingchen came to Jiangnan for the first time.
It always rains in the south of the Yangtze River, and dense clouds cover Xitang like a huge gray net. There was still light rain falling in the sky, and the entire green bricks and white tiles were covered with a layer of mist. That is the hazy color of mist and rain.
He walked through the alleys of Xitang. Holding a black umbrella, the black boots lightly splashed in the water. The town was silent, except for the sound of footsteps and the sound of rain, and there were no pedestrians on the street.
The army in the north is crouching, eyeing Xitang, and there is smoke all around the ancient town.
Lu Jingchen walked slowly like this and suddenly stopped.
Separated by a wall, he heard the sound of heels hitting the pavement. The thin heels hit the bluestone pavement, like the sound of telegraph moving, quietly walking away.
He turned around and walked towards the alley, but only the grass was beaten by the rain.
The rain in Xitang moistens things silently, and the world is silent...