Hua Yuyao struggled to wake up amid the ups and downs of consciousness. Her heavy eyelids slowly opened, and what came into view were the beams covered with old newspapers and the dim light. A smell mixed with herbs and earthy smell penetrated into the nose - this was the unique smell of the old house in her family in 1970, when she was five years old. Memories came back like a flood. She was weak and stupid in her previous life, like a heavy shackle, dragging down her parents' early hair, squeezing out her sisters' unmarried private lives, and finally closed her eyes in the continuous tragedy and bone-gnawing guilt. At this moment, the warmth coming from the tender palms was extremely clear. Not only is she back, there is also a joyful electronic sound in her mind. .
