Invincible Cultivation

The early morning sun has just reached the top of the mountain, and the fog has not yet cleared. The village is hidden in a depression surrounded by mountains. Several rows of low mud houses are squeezed together, and the roofs are covered with old thatch. There are footprints from last night's rain on the dirt road. Chickens are scratching for food at the door, and dogs are napping beside the door. I came down from the back mountain with a bamboo basket on my back, my steps stepping firmly on the wet soil. I am fifteen years old and grew up in this village. I collect herbs every morning, collect firewood in the afternoon, and occasionally dry herbs for neighbors in exchange for some rice. I don't have a mother, and my father doesn't care much about me. He lives in the house in the east end with half of the wall collapsed. When I go to deliver food, he usually doesn't speak and just nods. I have been wearing white clothes since I was little. The clothes were washed thin and had some wear on the edges, but they were still clean. Women in the village like to wear gray and blue cloth. Seeing that I always wear white, they feel it is unlucky. Children were told not to play with me, and adults often avoided me when they saw me. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.