Qiao Erniang, who killed her parents at the age of eight, saved a little snake that year. It was a snowy day, and a small black snake was hanging in the snow, placed together with fallen branches. If it weren't for the pungent smell of blood, Qiao Erniang wouldn't have recognized it as a snake.
Qiao Erniang has never read a book and doesn't know anything about farmers and snakes. She only knows that if she doesn't save it, the snake will definitely not survive the next day.
The little black snake was brought back to a small hut in the village. The house was small, but it was tidy. The little black snake felt the warm charcoal fire and settled here.
As she watched its body grow, Qiao Erniang saw no sign that it wanted to leave. After all, it was not her snake. Qiao Erniang sent it back to the mountains, but before it got dark, the snake returned to her bed. After repeated attempts, Qiao Erniang had no choice but to keep it.
The snake's body grew longer and thicker, but it always entangled her, even when she was on the ground, even when she was sleeping. It kept getting entangled, and the cold snake's tail got into her clothes.
