The night was as dark as a bottomless pit.
Inside the Fuxing grain store, there was an oil lamp, which was like a candle that was about to be extinguished in the wind, feebly giving off a little light.
Lin Wanzhao sat in front of the table filled with ledgers. The numbers in front of her eyes were swaying like a dance, but she couldn't get rid of the cold feeling in her heart.
It's been ten years.
In the past ten years, it seemed like one day, she had been staying in this small grain store, draining her youth and losing her previous energy.
