I hate the rain, especially the way it splashes on my face.In others, it is just a trace that disappears in an eye, but in me, it is the pain of a needle prick.It hurt for eighteen years.The pain is not intense, but it is long, and it follows you like a shadow.On the contrary, it is better to slaughter it with a knife, and it will come happily.At the foot of the mountain, the muddy and muddy water has become a serpentine stream, with dead branches and residual leaves floating inside and out, and the air is dead.From the overflowing water, a curling white mist rose.Such a mountainous area has a name called "smoke and rain gap".It is said that every time it rains, this place is sandwiched by the mountains on both sides into a deep crevice-like road, and it will be misty and rainy.The gap between imagination and reality is usually very large.I floated half a foot above the ground, a simple barrier enveloping me in a world that didn't touch a drop of water.I'm waiting.The place was not flattering at all, but I didn't hesitate to come.In the distance at the foot of the mountain, there is a jubilant red, gradually approaching.Giving a wedding in such weather is somewhat frustrating, but the red is still red, and the happy event is still a happy event, and it has not been lost half of its brilliance by God's unappreciated face.The joy was loud, and the musicians shook their heads, soaked and faithful to their duties.However, too deliberately happy is always unsatisfactory.The line was very long, and everyone's footsteps were in a hurry, and the eight shoulders clustered among them, with silver tops and soap covers, and red veils hanging out, were rich and magnificent, and they were incompatible with the desolation and decay around them.Today, on the second day of the second month of February, the spring is cold, and the cold wind in the mountains has been detached from its essence, not like the wind, like a wild horse, colliding in all directions.The sedan chair drivers were blown back a few steps by a gust of wind, the sedan chair swayed, and the sedan curtain flew, revealing half of the beautiful wedding dress.I saw the hands on my knees, clasped tightly, white and delicate, delicate and delicate without wind and rain.However, the focus of my eyes was not only on the hands as beautiful as mutton fat jade, but also on the colorless and transparent bracelet worn on the right wrist.Many years ago, the most I did every day was to watch the clouds and butterflies fly on the top of the mountain called Fulong, and I even remember the posture of each bird flying, admiring the traces of their freedom.I believe that if I could fly, I would fly more than any bird.As it turned out, I was right.I jumped down from the top of the mountain, and my fluttering garments were lighter than my wings.If the group of people down the mountain could see me, they might think that they had seen a fairy who had strayed into the mortal world.It's a pity that they can't see it.I disappeared.Unfortunately, I'm a dryad.An existence that is contrary to the gods.The wind is stronger, what the hell I'm doing.Everyone was blinded by the wind and rain.In the chaos, I fell in front of the sedan car and stretched out my hand towards the sedan curtain t1706231537: