Beside a crystal-clear stream stood a small, low thatched cottage. Bright sunlight spilled through a bamboo window and into the room.
Beside an old, mottled table sat a sixteen-year-old boy in clothes patched beyond counting, his face haggard as he gazed out the window at a vine climbing up the wall.
“Mom, Dad, I can cultivate now. I can finally come home to you.”
