Ruo thought about it but couldn't fall asleep. There was no sweet and warm talk, no more kissing or touching, and she had different dreams in the same bed, which made her unable to stop once she was jealous. Ruosi carefully put on her nightgown and walked out of the room. She habitually and skillfully pulled out a piece of paper from the diary, rolled it in tobacco, lit it, and then smoked it greedily and lazily. She has been in love with the hand-rolled cigarettes smoked by her grandmother since she was a child. Its feeling is traditional and mysterious, its smoke is empty and ambiguous, and it indulges all the wantonness and laziness in her life. She kicked off her slippers and paced around the forty-square-meter apartment like a cat. She couldn't help but sneer, the little space he could give her was not as big as the bathroom at home. But she has never regretted her choice, even now. Not only that, she still had to be a good wife and mother, hiding her humiliation deep in her heart.
Conception: