Summer has just arrived. It had just rained, and there were still a few black clouds in the sky.

The mud was moist and gave off the fragrance of herbs.

She walked slowly along the path, carrying a small basket in both hands, the contents of which were covered by a layer of cloth.

A wide hat was fastened over her head, blocking her face and making it look extremely dark.

However, the dress she wore looked different.

The dress seems to be brand new, with no stains or damage. The items adorned on it shimmered in the faint sunlight. The wind blew her skirt, and her feet stepped lightly, leaving small marks.

Eventually, she came to a grave. A few simple words were engraved on the tombstone, and the grass had not yet grown on the small mound raised behind it, but it was newly turned.

At this time, she knelt down in front of the tombstone despite the mud.

Under the small mound, his husband is buried.

Young people are in the smoke of gunfire.

The contents of the basket were taken out one by one and laid out neatly.

She stood up again and watched silently.

She danced, the wind ruffled her skirt, and a pleasant floral scent wafted away.

What a beautiful dance, but it makes people feel extremely sad.

This dance was supposed to belong to two people. Another young man who should have danced together has been lying down forever.

She stopped and took off her hat. Long jet-black hair wafting in the wind. She gently placed her hat in front of the grave and burst into tears.

She turned around and walked slowly.

There was black smoke in the distance.

It's not clouds, it's war.

"The End of the Broken Pen" 32 Summer Mourning is in the hand, please wait a moment,

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