At twenty, she watched a movie at the threshing ground. At twenty-one, she rode an electric scooter into the city. At twenty-two, she left home to work. At twenty-three, she fell in love with him at first sight, and someone cut out her kidney… Love is nothing more than a crude tool. Its sacred, noble radiance has completely faded, and it has been practically reduced to a mere “thing,” something to be summoned and dismissed at will, according to one's “desires.”
