Early the next morning, golden morning light fell upon Li Rufeng's small courtyard in Taoyuan Village.
On the grape trellis in the courtyard, clusters of green, unripe grapes swayed gently in the breeze. Their winding vines twined together, seeming to silently speak of the upcoming entanglements of interests.
Nearby, the stone mill stood quietly, a fine crack across its surface foreshadowing the hidden crises of this cooperation.
Chapter 389