The bright moon hung high in the sky, stars dotting the night, the night scenery at Mogu Lake was both magnificent and profound, and the lake breeze was cool and even cold.
The scent of sandalwood, the smell of burning candles and paper money wafted through the air.
The dogs of Gan Family Village seemed to have gotten used to the four strangers and gradually stopped barking.
Burning paper money, Gan Ling's spiritual ritual, was ongoing.
Silence was a kind of best confession and communication.
When Gan Ling finished burning the paper money, the night had deepened, even the bright moon had set in the west.
Gan Ling stood up, patted the gravestone, and had a faint, serene smile on her face, an expression of utmost beauty.
A stunning woman with the demeanor of an anthropologist, her batik cloak fluttering, long hair flowing, indescribably beautiful.
Just her aura alone was enough to captivate.
"Mama, I'm back, I'm free."
