What kind of feeling was this? Suffocation? Sorrow? Oppression?
Yang Guo felt as though all six of her senses had been sealed away. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on whatever was in her hand.
Yet she felt nothing in her hand. What was she supposed to be holding? Yang Guo had forgotten. She only felt that she ought to be holding something.
When her six senses returned, Yang Guo was stunned by the sight before her.
Why was everything around her a sea of white? And why was she here? Yang Guo kept feeling as though she had forgotten something terribly important...
She tentatively made her way deeper into the mist. Fortunately, nothing strange happened around her, and the mist ahead seemed to have thinned considerably.
Through the haze, she seemed to make out a village.
The village also gave her an inexplicable sense of familiarity. Yang Guo did not know what was wrong with her, but the sight of it stirred a visceral revulsion within her.
The mist dispersed completely, revealing a little village that looked peaceful and tranquil. Perhaps because it was noon, wisps of cooking smoke were rising from the chimneys of several homes.
Though the houses were simple, they looked very clean, and the entire village exuded a warm, welcoming atmosphere.
Several children had gathered at the village entrance. Their laughter and clamoring mingled together, grating on every one of Yang Guo's nerves.
Yang Guo felt she must be ill. Otherwise, why would she find these children so hateful...
Just then, a grown man appeared at the village entrance. He had respectable features and wore clothes of cotton and hemp, but his face bore none of the weathering left by the years. He hardly looked like someone who belonged in the village.
Smiling, he waved toward