This is a small mountain village in a southern town. The sun has not yet risen, among a group of simple houses built with earthen walls and red tiles. In one of the households, a woman in her thirties walked into a room with a broomstick and an angry look on her face.
There are two beds in this room, and a girl of sixteen or seventeen years old is lying on one of them.
The girl's face was red, her brows were furrowed, and there was a slight sweat on her forehead.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
