Near the border of the Central Marsh, Chang Xiuying stood at the high hill with her eyes closed as she inhaled the air. The fog made her somewhat small body ethereal. When a familiar warmth hit her face, she slowly opened her eyes to see the morning sun rising with a beautiful luster of orange and purplish-pink. Its light gave color to the village that seemed like a canvass.
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the only grass he touched was that wife of his