"Clang-"
The loud sound of the wooden door being kicked open made Qingyang's eardrums hurt, and the musty wind blew dust in his face. She staggered and held on to the mottled mud wall, with blood marks still left on the back of her neck from Wang Ye's fingernails. The scene before her eyes was even more absurd than this ruined temple - a modern kitchen, experimental data, and the instructor's harsh voice, "Qingyang, your thesis data is fake!"
Memories flashed back like a revolving door, followed by the despair of the original owner. It turned out that both of his parents died when he was young, and he was adopted by the mean Ye Wang family. Now that he has just turned sixteen, he is sold to a bad old man in town to fill in a house in the name of "paying off debts." Three days ago, the original owner fled into this abandoned mountain temple, but due to hunger and cold, he left the last half of the wild vegetable cake mixed with Guanyin soil to his young brother Xiaoman, and he starved to death in the haystack of the ruined temple.
