I heard that my mother bumped into a certain nobleman.
I have never seen her since I was born.
My sister's family has to bow down and make a small field every year to serve the new god.
I hate them and I hate the day God comes every year.
That day, it snowed heavily in Nangang, and the broken jade was falling. The coldness in his eyes was gone. His warm palm rested on my face, and he hesitated: "Ye Nan, don't hate... God."
It was only a long time after that day that I realized that what he originally wanted to say was "Don't hate me."
·Short story/text third person
·Full text free/Thanks for reading
·The girl and her patron saint
Intention: Let go of your prejudices and feel the beauty of this world
