If life were only as it was when first we met, why should the autumn wind grieve over a painted fan?
If the years only lingered in our initial acquaintance, why would pure tears fall upon our collars?
Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, a few days passed in a hurry. As time went on, the Big Black Dog's injuries had more or less recovered.
The wind whipped through withered leaves, and the autumn chill grew stronger. Soon, it was that intoxicating early autumn. The village looked rather desolate, yet it was simply the busy farming season, with every household radiating happy smiles amidst planting and harvesting.
Chapter 27