Farm.
The afternoon sun streamed into the bedroom, and Wen Sheng had just awakened from a deep sleep. Despite resting for an entire night, her head remained groggy, and after stretching languorously, she attempted several times to get up but ultimately failed to leave the bed.
Too sleepy, no matter how much she slept, it never seemed enough.
With windows on two sides of the room bathing in sunlight, Wen Sheng stared blankly at the scenery outside, daydreaming. During her vacation on the farm, she lived away from the troubles and trifles of Jiangzhou, leading a life that was simple yet fulfilling.
Occasionally, she would think of Wen Tingshu, Fu Yanlin, and the deceased Fu Yuhe, but her emotions no longer fluctuated wildly.
Some things felt as distant as if they had happened half a century ago.
Life went on, and wounds would eventually scab over.
