The Muslims sat on the steps of the school's playground, where they had once sat Yang Mianhua tears. Their hearts and eyes were sore.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry until the sky was dark. She wanted to cry like Yang Mianhua had once sat here.
However, he was a Muslim man. In the end, he did not cry. He just sat there without moving, like a statue. He looked at the dried grass and the plastic lawn. He didn't know why the school lawn had to be made of plastic because he was afraid that the winter grass would die.
He sat on the steps and thought about a lot of things. He thought about the weather, the wind, the lightning, the snow, but he didn't think about Yang Mianhua.
When he thought of her, he felt a pain in his heart. It was a pain that he felt. It was as if there was a group
