lt;The Pocket Dimens

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.,Thinking about it, Yan Xiaosi had no choice but to often go to the pond a mile away from the village to catch fish and roast them for eating. So he ran out of the village.,A sharp pain erupted in Yan Xiaoshi's head, his vision blurring. Fragments of memories, alien and unwelcome, flooded his mind like a raging torrent, overwhelming him.。