lt;The misfortune of

Death, this is not because of his low mental fortitude, but because he is truly dying. A strong rope tightly binds around his neck.,Lin Hao stood before a solid stone arch bridge, facing the intoxicating spring breeze. He looked at the farmers working diligently on both sides of the river and the women picking mulberry leaves, but his eyes were filled with melancholy.,Villagers in homespun short shirts carried farm produce past him, casting sideways glances his way, their eyes twinkling with amusement. He could still hear the fading chatter of their conversation.。