The old woman slowly leaned the smooth, polished wooden cane in her hand against the tree trunk.
Hunching her frail body, she slowly lowered herself onto the cool bluestone bench beneath the tree.
She slowly raised her age-spotted, vein-laced hand and rested it on her knee. Tilting her head slightly upward, her cloudy yet gentle eyes gazed into the drifting clouds rolling across the distant sky.
The past, long sealed away in the depths of her memory, slowly surged forth with the evening breeze.
"I grew up here, in Spirit Tortoise Village, a small village by Peach Blossom County... That year..."
Her aged, hoarse voice slowly rose, carrying the softness tempered by years, yet also the hollowness and bewilderment unique to the twilight of life. It drifted lightly on the wind, weighing quietly upon the listener's heart.
The old woman's entire life had been one hardship after another, enough to make anyone sigh upon hearing it.
Her mother had died when she was young. Later, her father remarried. Her stepmother had been mild-tempered and had not treated her harshly; she had been provided with food and clothing, yet she had never received even half a shred of genuine affection. In the end, there had always been a layer of estrangement between them.
When she reached middle age, the husband who had walked hand in hand with her suddenly passed away, leaving her alone to hold up a home battered by wind and rain.
By the time frost had dyed her temples and old age had claimed her, her only two children had left this world before her, condemning her to the deepest grief of white-haired parents sending off black-haired children.
A few years ago, her husband's elder brother and sister-in-law had also died of illness one after another, leaving her