Behind the mountain, early morning.
A thin, pale mist shrouded the peak of the back mountain, lingering for a long time without dispersing. As a gentle breeze swept through, a dull, muffled sound of a whip striking flesh suddenly echoed from the forest.
In a secluded grove at the peak of the back mountain, a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy had his feet planted firmly into the soil like wooden stakes, his toes gripping the earth tightly. His teeth were clenched, cold sweat poured down his forehead, and his naked torso, wearing only a pair of shorts, was covered densely with bluish-purple bruises.
Chapter 23