About This Novel
The weather was particularly gloomy that day when the bandits opened the village. The mountain breeze came in from far away, swirling withered yellow leaves and paper scraps flying in the alley. There was a thick grayish-yellow color floating in the sky. Several fire places on the street occasionally flickered with light, unburned rafters, cotton wool, tables and chairs emitted streams of green smoke, and paper embers and cloth ashes fluttered on the ground in the wind. The pungent burnt smell lingered among the gaps in the crowd, reminding people of the horrific scene when a cloth shop in the town suddenly caught fire in the middle of the night many years ago. The open space at the cross street was populated by the men and women of the town. The vicious shouts of the bandits rang out all around, giving people a thrilling feeling. Several homeless dogs were barking at the gangsters from a distance with their tails between their legs. Following the melodious sound of gunfire, a dog whimpered and fell in front of a shop. Dirty blood flowed down the street toward the recesses.
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