Lin Xia never thought that an ordinary move would completely change her life.
That day, the sky was gloomy and the dark clouds were very low, as if a heavy rain would pour down at any time. Lin Xia stood in the attic of the old house, holding an old desk lamp in his hand, dust flying in the faint light through the skylight. The attic is filled with old items left by my grandparents: faded photo albums, rusty iron boxes, and a leather-bound diary. She opened the diary casually, and a yellowed photo slid out.
