Huashan Villa

Ning Wanqiu stood at the door. "I lived here the year I became a master. Two pine trees were planted at the door. One of them died later, the year your master became seriously ill. That year, many people died at the foot of the mountain..." The little daughter squatted on the threshold, supporting her chin with her hands, looking up at the master, thinking: Huashan Mountain is too cold, it is not fun at all.