The sweet-scented osmanthus bloomed again, but this year she was the only one. Perhaps this was the scene she looked forward to most when she was 18. At this time, the sun rose, and a ray of light shone through the sweet-scented osmanthus tree on her face, but she only saw empty eyes. Her wandering eyes stared straight ahead, not knowing whether it was joy or sadness. "You are born to be a slave." Have you really looked in the mirror? I have seen you do it to survive until now. The bravest thing you can do." "Perhaps, I am with you because of your kindness and bravery for justice. But now, I find that these are the only things that can't arouse the interest of men."... Every word is lingering in her mind like a nightmare. Thinking of these, the shovel in her hand becomes heavier again and again, and she slams the osmanthus tree with her clenched fist. The sound that suddenly comes to her mind makes her raise her head nervously.
"Don't be afraid, be good, give me your hand, I will take you away"...
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
