It was already late when Wenyer left the town association.
He took out his cell phone and took a look. It was already half past eight, past dinner time, and he didn't know if Miss Ibuki was waiting for me.
Wenyer looked up at the sky; the snow was still falling.
Falling on the dark mountains, falling on the withered trees, falling in the lonely village...
His thoughts seemed to travel through time and return to the place that Ninomiya Jiro had described twenty years ago.
At that time, Dazang Township was just a remote mountain village. The palms and fingertips of all the people in this village were a strange yellow-green color.
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