Ten years ago, in the bitterest, coldest depths of winter, heavy snow fell.
Wind and snow blanketed Qingji Mountain, covering all its greenery with a thick, despairing layer of white.
When Stone Ghost was alive, he had been a child left behind in a village at the foot of Qingji Mountain.
The city where Qingji Mountain stood was not particularly prosperous, and average wages were low. So, for the sake of their children and elderly parents, most men and women chose to leave home to work in economically developed cities.
Naturally, only the elderly and children remained in the village.
And in a village full of left-behind children, all sorts of pecking orders naturally developed-for instance, you were a child whose parents didn't want you. Your parents had abandoned you.
This was especially pronounced in Stone Ghost's case.
Stone Ghost had no grandparents at home and lived entirely alone. His parents had left when he was twelve and never returned in all the years that followed.
They truly didn't want him.
Stone Ghost knew that.
He had a mild communication disorder. When his parents, relatives, or neighbors spoke to him, he seldom answered and rarely looked anyone in the eye. He hated making eye contact.
His symptoms weren't actually severe, but his parents felt as though the sky had fallen. They thought they had given birth to a defective child.
They were villagers. How could they have heard of such a fancy condition?
Treatment? They couldn't afford that.
But he was their own child, after all, so his parents gritted their teeth and raised him until he was twelve. When a wave of villagers began leaving to work elsewhere, the little conscience they still possessed finally died out.
They left without hesitation.
Before leaving, his mother stroked Stone Ghost's head