The stupid woman in the village fell into the pond and drowned, and everyone was lamenting.
The summer is hot, and the sky is pouring rain, which does not reduce the heat in the air. The whole world is shrouded in a dull and depressing atmosphere.
Twelve-year-old Chen Shi knelt alone in front of the muddy tomb. The rain wet his clothes, and he couldn't tell whether it was tears or rain on his face.
A young hand handed over an umbrella.
"Brother Chen Shi, come home with me." Six-year-old Lin Zhao and his mother, wearing raincoats, looked at him distressedly.
Chen Shi looked at Lin Zhao and stood up slowly.
The rain continued to trickle down his body, washing away the mud from his body.
Lin Zhao held Chen Shi's hand and walked towards home.
In a summer rain, Chen Shi lost his only relative.
A summer rain washes away the mud all over his body and makes him clear for the rest of his life.
Intention: I have a withered seed, you bring the soil. I said it cannot take root here, and you said, "No matter how withered it is, it belongs to the soil."