Ten-year-old Ling Dang stood under the tall archway of the widow's courtyard and looked towards the high white courtyard wall. There were several thin, stooped old women carrying straw baskets on their backs as they walked past the wall. Occasionally they raised their gray eyes and glanced at her.
When those dull and cold eyes glanced at her, Lingdang's heart trembled. These were the old widows! She thought that one day she would become one of these widows who grew old alone and died in depression.
The fortune teller said that she was destined to have a taste of life.
She spat on the ground: Life is like a piece of grass? Then you have to live! You still have to live well!
