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Chapter 88 Rain memory

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    Countryside, sweet wind, sweet water, and sweet people

    In the morning, when it was still daylight, the village was still silent everywhere.  On the side of the soil field, the willows and poplars facing the river are drooping their leaves and panting for exhausted breath.  On the wide field, a few lumberjacks were swaying here and there, glowing indistinctly in the gray dawn.  The children next to them, the large and small squares and circles painted with lime, are clearly clear.

    Occasionally there are a few roosters who cheer up, and the sky becomes a little brighter with a few "ohhhh".  The still gurgling river looks like a silver dragon in the morning light, lying in a wide and deep river ditch, winding its way from the head of the village.  On the river bank, at the same time, another silver belt winds along with it, which is the farmer's field.  Most of the soil fields here are built near the river for various conveniences.  People first built it with loess, then spread the wheat stalks that had been crushed last year, splashed water, put ropes on the shoulders of several people, and rolled it repeatedly with lugs, and it became firm and smooth.  All the households' income from the wheat field in a year is harvested into the final wheat grains.  Because the soil farms are close to each other, there is a contiguous scene, which is very spectacular.  Because it is extremely smooth and flat by repeated rolling, it shows a special color. In day or night, it is very eye-catching white, but it is another scene.

    The grown-ups put away the crops completely on the soil field, and then left the field idle, basking in the sun and drying the moon.  At this time, people began to move around after meals.  The old people carried small benches and plantain fans, some bowed their waists, some stood on tiptoes, and approached from all directions.  The young women clamped the treated straw into their armpits and whipped their whips.  He also plunged into the crowd, and when he heard who was talking vigorously, he inserted a few specious opinions, and quickly lowered his head when he had time, and pinched the whip in his hand a few times.  Men, old and young, gather casually, playing chess and cards, in the shade of trees, or under the bright yellow lights hanging from someone's house, smoking cigarettes, sweating profusely, and yell loudly when they see joy and injustice.

    Especially at night, this is an excellent place to go.

    But it was morning, and there was no one there.

    "Crackling" is the sound of iron barrels rubbing against the pole. It must be a greedy person who has gone to the well at the entrance of the village to draw water.

    "I'm carrying water, sir."

    "Well, Goudan is also up."

    The person who drew the water picked up a bucket full of water, and drove his feet like flying, and a few water droplets flew down from behind his feet. They quickly turned into water marks, and then disappeared quickly on the hot land.

    The playful child has already woken up early, standing on the threshold of his own house in a daze with sleepy eyes.  The hair is messy, like a bird's nest that has been ravaged by a strong wind, but the messy appearance is also very unique.  He touched the back of his head, suddenly remembered something, and ran to the circle or square alone.  Curly raised one leg, kicked towards the stones, and started playing.  After a while, a little girl came and joined the game.

    With a sound of "squeak", someone's door opened; someone's broom swept across the yard;  There is the blunt sound of chopping stupid firewood; someone's kitchen smoke rises again: the day finally begins again.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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