There Is a Bamboo Fence Under the Willow in the Breeze

When he was ugly, the cemetery in the suburbs was a dark mess, the north wind was howling, and it was bleak and quiet. A young girl in white mourning clothes knelt beside the pile of loess and cried loudly, her tears like broken pearls. She stared at the grave over and over again desperately and helplessly, and her childish voice kept shouting: "Daddy, mother..."