They are waiting for someone, someone is waiting for the rain.

People are often late when waiting for someone.

Waiting for the rain to rain on Shanshan.

The weather in Jincheng is not as cold as other places, nor is it as warm as others think.

The city doesn't snow all year round, but rain is a frequent visitor.

An early spring rain washed away the city's supposed bustling crowds, and the otherwise warm weather had already begun to cool down yesterday.

Most people won't like this rain.

He threw two sticks of rain into the stove, rubbed his hands and stared at the spring rain outside the door, full of disgust.

Dressed in nice and beautiful clothes, with filthy swear in his mouth.

In a small courtyard, a very good-looking boy with a robe on his shoulders and a hat on his head walked out of the courtyard and gently closed the courtyard door.

There is a large tree outside the yard with an epiphyllum next to it.

The bare canopy of the trees welcomes the spring rains, and the rain falls and flows down the branches to the trunks.

The rain was not heavy, but because of the drainage of the branches, small ravines had been washed out of the roots of the trees.

It didn't have any effect on the big tree, but for the fragile epiphany next to the tree, the small ravine was magnified countless times.

The soil and water began to elocate, and the roots of the epiphyllum were slowly exposed, lying on the ground dejectedly, slowly undulating and fluctuating as the rain flowed.

Even in the mildest weather in the city of Jinjin, this beauty under the moon is still devastated.

The boy thought about it for a moment, and thought that he might be able to change the fate of the flower, and began to walk forward, trying to remove it from under the tree.

But as he walked up to the epiphany, his movements began to slowly stop.

He suddenly thought of the picture from years ago, without the existence of this big tree, this flower would still die.

He began to realize that he couldn't seem to change anything.

He was waiting for the rain, but he didn't want to see it.

He slowly stood up, and there was unbearability in his eyes.

He stretched out his young palm and pushed the tree in front of him.

The rain was bigger, but the water at the roots of the trees was much smaller.

The rain kept beating on his hat, and the boy looked down at the epiphany with wide eyes.

After a long time, the rain began to lighten, but the water returned to its previous normal.

The boy raised his hand and nudged it again.

This time he felt very tired, he didn't know why he had so much strength, but after using up the strength, he was much more tired than usual.

The rain from the branches was shaken off with the gentle swaying of the tree, hitting the boy's hat and coat, and some of it had penetrated the rain gear on his body and flowed into his clothes.

The boy didn't care, and this time he began to raise his head, his gaze looking through the bare trees and looking at the sky where there was nothing but rain.

He didn't know when the rain he'd been waiting for would stop, and he didn't know how long the epiphany in the ground would last.

All he knew he was going to be able to hold out for long.

The rain hit his beautiful young face, he blinked slightly, lowered his head and pushed the tree in front of him.

Then he slowly raised a small wet hand, which was already shaking.

Gently wiped the rain from his face, but another layer of water came out of his forehead.

It was no longer rain, it was sweat.

He pushed the tree three times.

Because with his power he can only push these three times.

He thought he was a little different from other people, like his dad and his two older brothers.

It's normal to get tired pushing a tree with manpower, but it's not normal to be able to push it.

He felt that something was not right about him.

He looked down at the epiphany in front of him, and there was reluctance in his eyes.

Then he lifted his legs slightly, stepped on the puddle in front of him, and did not look back.

He wasn't disappointed in the epiphany, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it.

He walked slowly through the deserted streets, holding two copper plates in his other hand.

It was the money that his father had left him to buy breakfast for himself when he went out early.

On the way, he thought that he should be able to buy two or three steamed buns, but he still didn't forget the flower and the tree just now.

He raised his hand and knocked lightly on the wooden door of a shop.

But he didn't smell the steamed buns when he stood outside the door, and he didn't see any steam rising in the room.

The door opened, and a middle-aged woman who was tightly wrapped and shivering stood in the shop, and hurriedly waved her hand when she saw the young man handing over two copper plates.

The wooden door was closed again, and the woman's muttering and grumbling could still be heard through the door.

The boy retrieved the two plates and walked forward.

The year had passed ten days ago, and the shops in the city had opened their doors for business a few days ago.

It's just that because of the sudden cold weather in this spring rain, the owner of the steamed bun shop just now was not willing to steam two baskets of steamed buns yesterday.

It's not that I know in advance that no one wants to buy it today, although in fact it is true, but the real reason is that the bed is too warm.

Although it was raining today, it was not too cold for other places, but for the group of people who had long been accustomed to the warmth in the city, they were unwilling to accept the cold.

The imperial court has dropped out, so there are no carriages passing by on the streets, and there is no late getting up, and the official who is sitting in the carriage spits words that are more fragrant than flowers into his ears.

He began to feel that this was wrong, that he was tired, but not that he was hungry.

He came to the middle of the city, and then to the south of the city, where there was a lake, called Wangqiu Lake.

The lake is too big in the city and too beautiful in the fall.

It is so big that it looks too extravagant in this not rich city, and it is so beautiful that after the flowers pass in autumn, the lake begins to look too ugly.

It's not that it's really ugly, it's that it's compared to autumn.

Now there is not the slightest spring color in this city, only the peach charms and the firecrackers that are still burning after being swept away can prove that the year has indeed passed.

The boy didn't expect spring, he only hoped for this rain, but this rain didn't seem to be the same as he originally thought.

He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn't.

The rain falls on the lake, and the surface of the lake begins to fluctuate, causing slight ripples.

And then it quickly merges together, and it's all lake water.

The boy was stunned to see that the lake was still beautiful in his opinion, even more beautiful than at other times.

But his purpose was not to see the lake.

Even on rainy days, the horses still have to graze.

He felt as if something was missing from his hand, and he looked down to see that the hand holding the copper plate had already been released.

He looked up and saw a scruffy old man walking slowly in the rain.

He looked down and thought for a moment, then came to the barracks and came to the stable.

It was getting late, but the rain was non-stop.

There were no soldiers in training on the training ground, and there were no horses running.

I found the bamboo basket I often use on weekdays, took some forage, and carefully put it in the manger with the bamboo basket.

He usually does very little things, looking at flowers, feeding horses and being in a daze.

He still squatted in front of the manger, feeding the horses.

The rain kept dripping down the eaves of his hat in a rhythmic manner.

But this time he was not in a daze, he opened his eyes, but it seemed to be a dream.

In his dream, the road from the yard to Ma Peng seemed to be walked again.

It was still raining in the sky, but he still clutched the two copper plates tightly in his hand, and it didn't look like anything different.

It's just that there is no big tree in his eyes, and there is no Wangqiu Lake, and the rain seems to be much more violent.

The flower is still in place, as if it has come to life, receiving this spring rain, the leaves are gradually full, and the position of the rhizome is slowly growing.

He didn't push the tree, because it wasn't outside his yard anymore, and even if it did, he didn't feel like he needed to do it anymore.

He just stepped out of the courtyard, closed the courtyard door gently, and re-entered the shop.

There was a long queue waiting to buy two or three steamed buns.

In the process of queuing, a horse-drawn carriage flew quickly through the street, and the wheels ran over the ground, splashing himself with a cloud of sewage.

The coachman didn't pay attention, and the official in the carriage naturally didn't notice either.

There was just anxious and helpless chatter in the car.

But the line noticed, and they didn't snicker, they didn't make fun, and they didn't scold the carriage that had gone away.

Instead, the queue quickly split into two, and the people in the back began to move farther away from the street.

Another carriage passed by, and the wheels seemed to be about to spark, and the chatter in the carriage was even more impatient and unsightly.

The boy was still in the last place, but this time the splash did not splash on his body, and the flying splash was still some distance away from him.

After a long time, the young man handed over the two copper plates, and took the three steamed buns and a piece of inferior oiled paper handed over by the shopkeeper with a straight face.

He took one bite and covered the remaining two with the piece of oiled paper.

The rain hit the oiled paper, but the steamed buns remained warm.

A steamed bun was eaten quickly, and he could hear the sound of selling and bargaining as he walked down the street in the rain.

You can also see customers holding oil-paper umbrellas with red faces and thick necks to ask for returns.

When he came to the city, and then went to the south of the city, he did not see the lake, where the high walls were built, and he did not know what it was for.

I only know that it is not beautiful, and I can feel the solemn atmosphere.

He was very scared, his feet sped up and ran quickly, and the steamed bun he was holding in his arms suddenly fell off.

Wet by the rain, soaked and soft, he was very distressed.

After looking down for a long time and turning to leave, an old man who looked like a beggar shouted behind him.

He looked back at the old man and shook his head slightly.

Then the old man slowly stepped forward, picked up the steamed bun and gently put it in his arms.

He caught up with the old man, wrapped the only steamed bun in his hand tightly with oiled paper, and gently handed it over.

The old man smiled at himself, unceremoniously took the steamed bun, and turned to leave.

He returned to the barracks, but could not find the stable, nor the emaciated horses.

However, in this spring rain, he seemed to hear the sound of the running horses.

Judging by the sound, those horses should be strong.