
lt;The Pocket Dimens
Word count: not counted
state:serializing
author: <gourd> </
At the village's edge, in a dilapidated grass temple, a woman with washed-out clothes patched countless times stood behind the stove, wielding a chipped spatula.,The woman leaned over to her son, whispered a word toward the door, and then brought to the table the freshly cooked vegetables and four steamed buns.,"Mother, don't worry, I'll go find my younger brother right away."。