The first rays of sunlight shone in through the half-open windows. Countless clouds of dust danced noisily under the beams of light, flickering in and out.

Outside the window, birds chirp happily, and the sound comes and goes, like a beautiful song. The breeze filtered through the windows, bringing in the scent of wildflowers.

Han Moyu woke up.

The feeling of burning / burning / body has not faded so far. She looked around blankly.

What catches your eye is a roof covered with wheat straw. The roof was made of a few logs, and it was covered with neatly trimmed dry branches, and the branches were covered with thick wheat straw.

A few straws emerged from the crevices of the branches and hung down from the roof, as if they were about to fall at any moment. There are uneven earthen walls on all sides. This wooden bed rests against the earthen wall.

Han Moyu stretched out his hand and touched the uneven earthen wall, and a jerky and rough feeling came from the palm of his hand.

Where is this? Han Moyu's mind went blank, and his stunned gaze swept around.

Next to the bed, there was a tall wooden stool, unpainted, just a simple patchwork of a wooden block and four wooden sticks, but it looked very strong. On top of the wooden bench, there was an oil lamp, which had been extinguished. The black lamp stamen hung crookedly.

She looked up again. The furnishings in the room were very simple, except for this bed, this stool, which was a wooden table, which was placed against the window. A few rays of sunlight shone in through the wooden windows, bringing the warm smell of wheat straw to the room.

Where is this? Why can't I remember......

Han Moyu stretched out his hand to cover his head, only to feel that the headache was unbearable. She shook her head vigorously, and then reached out and knocked hard, only to feel that she had regained a sense of consciousness.

At that moment, fragments of memories hidden in the depths of my mind came flooding back.

Han Moyu gradually remembered that this was her home, the home of an ordinary mountain farmer. Her mother's name is Mo Chunlan, and her father's name is Wu Qiusheng, who is an ordinary hunter in the local area. And her name is called "Wu Mo language".

Wu Moyu ......

Han Moyu silently read the name, always feeling that something was wrong.

So, who is Hanmoyu?

Han Moyu shook his head and sat up with his body propped up. It hurts. It was just as he bent down and raised his hand that Han Moyu found a thick ache coming from all parts of his body.

She rubbed her shoulders with bared teeth and lifted the thin patched quilt that covered her. Underneath him was a thick cushion made of straw. It's warm, but it's also prickly.

She suddenly remembered that if she had slept in such a bed all night, she would wake up the next day with bruises and purples. She smiled self-deprecatingly.

She looked down at the bed, and her eyes fell on the neatly stacked men's coarse cloth clothes beside the bed. She was stunned.

Isn't she a daughter? How can there be a set of men's clothes next to the bed?

Han Moyu frowned, reached out and grabbed the set of clothes. A familiar feeling suddenly came to her, as if she had been wearing such clothes.

Han Moyu couldn't remember any details anymore, so she had to put the dress on her body. It fits perfectly.

She got up and got out of bed, took the mirror from the table, and looked inside.

In the mirror, the immature and delicate face of a teenage girl is reflected.

The pink and translucent seductive thin lips, the delicate cheeks like snow and jade, and especially the pair of seductive eyes, clear as water, seem to see through people's hearts. Wisps of dark incense were emanating from her body, condensing and getting stronger.

On the forehead corner hidden between the hair, a small mark was faintly revealed, like a petal falling on the forehead, adding a bit of charm and cuteness to her.

That coarse cloth men's clothes added a bit of heroism to her, making it indistinguishable between men and women at her age. It's just that those eyes are not the look that a teenage girl should have.

Is the beautiful girl in this mirror me?

Han Mo thought in a daze. She reached out and touched her shadow in the mirror, and suddenly sighed: It's good to be at such a flower-like age.

"Dead Tooth, haven't you gotten up yet?" Suddenly, a thick voice sounded outside the door, dragging Han Moyu out of his thoughts. Han Moyu was startled and came back to his senses.

The person who called her was her mother, Mo Chunlan. Han Moyu suddenly remembered the woman with kind eyebrows and a doting smile in her eyes.

The woman in my memory used to be that Wu Nong's soft language, delicate and beautiful, and she was so different from the women in the mountains and villages here.

However, I don't know when the delicate woman who couldn't resist her shoulders and couldn't lift her hands began to pick up the burden of life, from a delicate woman to a sturdy peasant woman in the mountains.

Her voice began to grow rough, her speech became vulgar, her hands began to be calloused, and her figure began to be out of shape. However, the gentle smile on her face has never changed.

Han Moyu felt that her eyes suddenly moistened. She didn't know what was wrong with her.

"Dead Tooth, did you hear it?" Outside the door, the woman's rough voice sounded again: "Dead Tooth, haven't you gotten up yet?"

"Hey!" Han Moyu was no longer stunned, she hurriedly answered and rushed out of the door.

In the distance, a pungent smell of mushy wafted over. It's not good, the rice is burned!

But I saw my mother Mo Chunlan standing outside the door, put down the basket, frowned and shouted loudly: "Dead teeth, didn't you get up early and watch the stove fire?"

As if he hadn't seen each other for too long, Han Moyu looked at the pleasant woman in front of him for a moment, and he was stunned there, and he sighed with emotion in his heart.

At that moment, the ending of this woman surged in her mind. Mo Chunlan died, Han Moyu didn't even see her last face before she died, and she even learned about Mo Chunlan's death long after Mo Chunlan died.

Mo Chunlan is the best person for her, almost sacrificing a qiē for her, but she relies on Mo Chunlan's love for herself, and has always called Mo Chunlan back and forth, and has never given a good face.

She failed to fulfill her filial piety during her lifetime, and she failed to send her to the end after her death.

Han Moyu stared at the woman in front of her, and her eyes suddenly became very soft.

At that moment, what was in her mind? Was it a memory, or a prophecy of the future? Did it happen or did it never happen?

No matter what was going on her mind, she wouldn't treat this woman like that again. This woman who gave birth to her, raised her, loved her, and paid a qiē for her.

"Yazi, what's wrong with you? Looking at Wei Niang so stunned, is there something wrong?" Mo Chunlan asked.