On a peaceful morning in early summer, at the foot of Feng Mountain, a quiet little village gradually came alive. It had rained last night, not heavily, but a continuous drizzle that persisted until three or four in the morning. Now, as one looked at the sky, washed clean by the rain, a few white clouds floated leisurely, creating an e...
On a peaceful morning in early summer, at the foot of Feng Mountain, a quiet little village gradually came alive. It had rained last night, not heavily, but a continuous drizzle that persisted until three or four in the morning. Now, as one looked at the sky, washed clean by the rain, a few white clouds floated leisurely, creating an exceptionally pleasant atmosphere. Xiwang Village. In the northeastern part of the village, at the foot of the mountain, was a simple rural courtyard belonging to the Jing family. The smoke from the kitchen had already begun to rise as Liu Caiyue, the mother of the family, prepared breakfast. The meal was simple: a few steamed buns made of mixed grains, a pot of millet porridge, and a few pickled vegetables taken from the pickle jar. That was all it took to ma
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