The weather today was beautiful; even though it was summer, there wasn't a single ray of sunlight.
The air was only slightly muggy, with occasional strong gusts of wind and the distant sounds of kites flying high in the sky.
The sky wasn't gloomy either... It was a beautiful, comfortable, and pleasant day.
But in someone's heart, it wasn't pleasant at all. A girl stood before a grave in the middle of a vibrant, colorful field of flowers, her waist-length platinum-blonde hair fluttering occasionally in the wind.
After standing and staring at the grave for a long time, she finally sat down in front of it and spoke a few words.
On the other side, between two fields of flowers, a dirt road stretched toward the village—a rather peaceful countryside.
A few farmers, heading home from the flower fields along their usual path, saw the girl still sitting alone by the grave and called out to remind her:
"Xiao Mu, are you still sitting there?"
"Hurry home soon. The weather forecast said it's going to rain late this afternoon."
It was indeed late afternoon, meaning a sudden downpour could unleash at any moment.
Seeing her sitting there in silence, the farmer had felt compelled to speak up.
Hearing the loud call, the girl looked up and replied, "Yes, I'll head back in just a moment."
With that, she lowered her head again, staring intently at the grave.
"Sigh..." Hearing her response, the farmer didn't say anything else, only letting out a heavy sigh.
A woman in her fifties walking beside him felt her heart ache at the sight. With a sorrowful expression, she sighed and said, "It's been over a year now, hasn't it? Every three months, she only stays for three days."
"Yeah, tomorrow little You Mu is leaving..." The farmer didn't say much, just offering a brief reply.
In truth, the phrase "three days every three months" held no deep, mysterious meaning.
It simply referred to the girl sitting out in the flower field.
Every three months, she would visit this village for only three days.
Day after day, as late afternoon approached, she would walk out to the grave in the middle of the flower field and sit there in silence, only returning to the village once dusk fell.
After three days, she would vanish without a trace, only to reappear for another three days three months later.
Before long, a few scattered raindrops began to patter down. Within minutes, the rain grew heavier, pouring down in sheets over the vast field of flowers.
No matter how hard the rain fell, the girl didn't panic or rush to find shelter, sitting as steadfastly as if she wouldn't budge even if the sky were to collapse.
She simply tilted her face up to the sky, her eyes filled with sorrow and disappointment, letting the heavy raindrops pelt her small face.
It stung quite a bit, but she didn't care.
She stared at the grave for a moment longer before speaking. "Mom... it's raining again. I'm leaving now."
"I'll come visit you again another day."
With that, she turned to leave, her streaming tears quickly blending with the falling rain.
The flowers surrounding the grave swayed more violently in the wind, as if bidding her farewell.
As it turned out, the person buried beneath that grave was her mother.
Seeing this, she sniffled and wiped her face, whispering through her tears, "Mom... I'm not crying. It's just the rain getting in my eyes."
Then, she walked straight back to the village without looking back.
That night, even though it was nearly eleven o'clock, she still hadn't gone to sleep. Instead, she climbed up onto the tiled roof to sit.
The heavy rain from earlier that afternoon had lasted about two hours before gradually tapering off and stopping completely.
The night was incredibly quiet. There were no children flying kites, no wind, no stars, no moon, and not a single light shining in the village.
The entire village had long since fallen fast asleep.
The entire night sky enveloped the village and the flower field, leaving only a pitch-black darkness.
It was quiet—heartbreakingly quiet!
As she sat lost in thought on the roof, a voice suddenly called out from beneath the eaves, "Du Mu, can't sleep again?"
Du Mu looked down. It was an old man around seventy years old, leaning on an old-fashioned cane, his eyes fixed on her.
He was the village chief, the owner of the house where Du Mu was temporarily staying.
Seeing the old man still watching her, Du Mu stood up and jumped straight down from the roof to the porch.
Without saying much, Du Mu simply gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and headed straight back to her room.
Seeing this, the old man spoke up again, "You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"
Hearing this, Du Mu finally paused. She turned around with a smile and replied:
"Yes, I'll be leaving around five tomorrow morning.
And one more thing..."
Before Du Mu could finish her sentence, the old man quickly cut in, "I know, I know! If you die one day, I must find your body and bury it next to your mother, right?"
Without turning back, Du Mu continued toward her room, waving her hand dismissively. "Thank you for remembering. Goodnight."
The old man didn't find her words strange; he had grown far too familiar with Du Mu's constant reminder.
At first, it had caught him off guard, but over time he had grown accustomed to it—a classic case of constant dripping wearing away the stone. Whenever he heard Du Mu say those three words, "one more thing...", he knew exactly what she was going to say.
Yet even now, every time Du Mu was about to leave, he still had no idea why she insisted on repeating that single request over and over.
Once Du Mu was back in her room, the old man let out a soft sigh, went inside to lock up, turned off the lights, and went to bed.
Outside, the rain began to fall once more. This time, it was quite heavy—even heavier than it had been in the afternoon.
The clock ticked. Tick-tock! Tick-tock!
Before long, it struck midnight.
~Yue Zi~.