Fu Ci sat at the wooden table in the county government office, running his fingertips across the yellowed pages of ancient books. The smell of ink mixed with the smell of gravel coming in from the window made him cough lightly. The flickering candlelight made his thin shadow grow long and reflected on the mottled earth wall, which was very similar to his life in the past three years - plain and uneventful, but also showing a lingering barrenness.
