Nora turned to me and queried, “Scarlett, if we indeed get to go home this time around, what would you want to do most of all?”

What did I want? That question lingered in my mind as I continued trudging forward, deep in thought.

There wasn’t any food I was especially craving. After a moment’s pause, I concluded, “I want to see the person I miss most, give him a hug, and apologize to him face-to-face.”

Nora seemed taken by surprise. Then she curiously pressed, “Is it somebody you’re in love with?”

I gave her a faint smile but declined to reply.

Night had fallen when we finally reached saw signs of human life. The village we’d arrived at was located in quite a rural area of the mountains, and perhaps due to its inaccessibility, there didn’t seem to be many inhabitants around.

From the number of lamps we’d counted shining in the dark, there were probably thirty to forty households scattered throughout the village.

“Let’s find a place to hunker down for the night,” Nora suggested, already making her way towards the door of the nearest cottage.

“Woof! Woof!” A dog suddenly rushed out into the yard and began sounding the alert at our sudden intrusion.

We clung to each other, terrified. Fortunately, the dog was leashed to a rope. It strained against its tether, barking continuously.

The owner of the cottage had evidently heard the ruckus. Out stepped a middle-aged man with tan, weathered skin.

to say. After a while, Tabitha gasped.

The arduous journey we’d made, crossing peak after peak, hadn’t brought us any

seeing our confused faces, the owner of the cottage seemed to further mistake our intentions. He

out of the cottage just then. She tugged

man for a while. He then grew noticeably calmer and lowered the axe in his

gestured. Uncomprehendingly, Tabitha made a few hesitant motions with her hands in return, trying to convey our

he understood. He did, however, let

dismal sight and stripped down within. Its clay walls

would have used decades ago. The lamp burned dimly at a bare

a corner. The roof of the cottage was, in fact, a tent stitched together out of gunny sacks. There was

that covered the

two bowls from a cabinet and placed them

gesture furiously. He seemed to

front of us. The food was steeped in chili. Nora recoiled

exclaimed rather adventurously. She had more of an appetite than the rest

in rather gratefully. The flavor of the pickled onions,

tasted anything. The pickled

ate, the man and his daughter squatted in a corner. They gazed at us with curiosity and

persisted in her attempts to communicate with them. Along with her hand signals, she deliberately spoke a few basic

Somehow, both father and daughter came to understand that we were here

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