李尘攥着 Pieces of broken grass under the scorching sun, spit it out noncommittally. He was just a kid who raised sheep in a small mountain village, didn't have much ambition, just wanted to have a date with the girl opposite the village. How could he possibly know that fate had already written a different book for him?

Suddenly, the sound of skills came from the distance, and a group of village elders were approaching. The leader, an old man named Wang, walked with difficulty. His face was wrinkled, his hair was white, and his steps were so slow that he almost stumbled every time he took a step.

"fmtalk, fmtalk~"

The child seemed to be calling out, but his voice was as thin as a cicada's call, and no one paid attention.

wang tianzhi walked to lichen in front of him, sighed and said, "Brother Li, I'm sorry to trouble you again. The village's wind and rain are about to start. We don't have enough funds to maintain it. Can you please help us borrow some money?"