On the eighth day of October, a continuous drizzle began to fall during the night.
The sharp outlines of the densely packed houses in Qi Stronghold were softened by the hazy mist and rain, and the fragrance of daylilies drifted through the winding alleys.
Xiang mountain, in the misty mountain haze, was like a light ink painting, peaceful and beautiful. An autumn rain washed away its silence and bloodiness of the past few days.