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Last night, it rained. In the early morning, I found a few earthworms struggling in the rain in the yard. Their wriggling bodies carried the soil that they refused to give up, and they were looking for a way to survive. Intricate marks were left on the wet soil. I am Tuyu, and in the story I am telling, I am the son of the old man. My father left on such a rainy morning. When my father was dying, he weakly asked me: "My child, can you understand why you were given the name 'Tuyu'? --- Remember --- your name is Tuyu ---". Now, I saw a few earthworms like this, and thinking of my father, my eyes became blurry again. Aren't the folks who live in our village like my father just like these earthworms struggling in the rain? Pay tribute to my dearest and most beloved father, and pay tribute to my lovely and respectable folks. In recent days, I have told this story with great kindness and relived that unforgettable life in the story.