The twilight was like spilled ink, making the Peach Blossom Village in the mountains blurry.
Lin Zhao stepped on dead branches and rushed home. The hare in the basket was still flapping, but the back of his neck felt cold. Normally, at this time, his mother would call him at the door of the courtyard: "Zhao'er, there is wild mushroom soup simmering on the stove."
"Auntie?
Yang'er?
Yue Yatou? "He yelled twice at the top of his lungs. The firewood door was ajar, and not even the chickens in the yard pounced.
The mountain wind blew withered leaves into his neck, and the veins in Lin Zhao's hands clenched the basket on his back bulging out.
He is a hunter from Peach Blossom Village. He followed his father into the forest to trap him when he was sixteen years old. But at this moment, the hand that opened the door was shaking more than a novice entering the mountains for the first time.
"Plop"——
The figure beside the stove made his knees weak.
Mother Lin was half-lying on the bluestone floor, her blue cloth apron soaked into dark brown, and the blood from her forehead flowed into her collar along the wrinkles.
She clenched her right hand so tightly that half a piece of yellowed paper appeared between her fingers, like a dead leaf knocked down by wind and rain.
"Auntie!
