In a clearly dilapidated courtyard, the few jujube trees and a pear tree had already shed their leaves, and faint patches of unmelted snow still clung to them, adding a touch of white to this monotonous scene.
Only a small path made of broken bricks had been laid in front of the main entrance of the central room of the lower courtyard; elsewhere, the ground was muddy. The especially low earthen wall and small tile-roofed house seemed exceptionally inconspicuous in the village.
But now, in this small courtyard, the sound of argument after argument turned what had once been a quiet yard into a noisy one.
The most elusive thing in the world, after all, is the human heart.
They were relatives, long unseen—though perhaps not particularly close relatives, they were still kin. In reality, not to mention relatives, even village folks, unless they had disputes, wouldn't usually become red-faced over trivial things.
