When I got old, I took turns living at my three children's homes.
The children I had raised with all my love each came to see me as a burden.
With two days left until New Year's Eve, I spent two days and one night battling a high fever in the bitter winter cold. Not one of my children would take me home, and in the end, I starved and froze to death.
Before I died, I regretted it countless times:
If I get another life, I'll live for myself!
Unexpectedly, when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the year I was thirty-three.
