Minha Rotina de Subida à Montanha: No Começo, Encontro o Casamento de Raposas
Ao acordar de uma ressaca, Zhang Hao descobriu que havia renascido cinco anos no passado. Naquele momento, ele era um alcoólatra sem grandes conquistas, e ainda não tinha se casado com sua noiva, que
Page 1 of 3
2016.
Early spring.
A gentle, unending rain fell, as if a maiden in her boudoir awaited her wedding day—unhurried, persistent, never ceasing.
Occasionally, a light breeze would stir the tree leaves, making them rustle softly.
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
Donkey hooves splashed through one muddy puddle after another, treading forward through the mire.
A waxed paper umbrella hovered above her, and she wore a simple, dark green, ancient-style Han dress.
A woman's figure sat swaying atop a black donkey.
She tilted the oilskin umbrella slightly, looking up at the sky, thick with mist and entirely devoid of sunlight. Her tightly closed lips parted just a little.
Hers was a face of striking features, delicate and fair as the finest jade, unadorned yet beautiful as if descended from the heavens—an ethereal beauty.
Yet on that face, a rare trace of melancholy lingered, stirring a gentle pity in those who beheld her.
She sighed soundlessly, lowering her gaze to the muddy road ahead.
Before her lay a tiny village of just a few dozen households. The stone stele at the entrance she had just passed bore the inscription: “Zhao Family Village.”
Zhao Family Village nestled at the foot of the mountains—in truth, at the base of mountains within mountains.
Encircled on all sides, isolated by its terrain, it seemed entirely cut off from the world.
If not for this rain, today's scenery would surely be as lovely as any other day.
Li Siyu thought so as she rode her black donkey,