Gaoling Village appeared exceptionally peaceful under the setting sun. Aside from the occasional chirping of insects, there was only the sound of the stream flowing around the village.
To the people who had just survived a severe drought, this sound was incredibly melodious.
Although the place left much to be desired, this sound of flowing water meant one crucial thing: they would never again have to live life as refugees fleeing a drought.
The only thing that disheartened them was the sight of the houses at the village entrance, all displaying scenes of decay. The timber was worm-eaten and weathered to a dull gray.
Many roofs looked like sieves. Some had no visible covering left at all, with only rafters and a few crossbeams remaining, resembling the ribs of a skeleton.
