The fog in Qingxi Village is alive.
Just after Yinshi, Shen Yan's carriage got stuck in the mud at the entrance of the village. The sound of wheels running over rotten leaves was completely swallowed up by the fog. Only the horse lantern hanging on the shaft reflected a dim yellow circle in the white steam that was too thick to melt, like a dying one eye. He pushed open the car door, and the cold mist wrapped in moisture penetrated into his collar. In an instant, the washed white police uniform was soaked with moisture. This was the only thing he took with him when he resigned from the county police department. The copper badge on the epaulette had long been worn away, leaving only a shallow mark, which made his collarbone ache.
