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Things About My Growing Up
Suspense我成长的那些事儿
Falling Flowers Return At Night
It was another year when Qingming Festival was approaching, and it was drizzling. I was walking alone on the way back to the village, looking at the small earthen bags (old graves) on the roadside, and feeling the coolness brought by the touch of the drizzle. I can't help but sigh that the air in the countryside is better.
It was another year when Qingming Festival was approaching, and it was drizzling. I was walking alone on the way back to the village, looking at the small earthen bags (old graves) on the roadside, and feeling the coolness brought by the touch of the drizzle. I can't help but sigh that the air in the countryside is better.