Surrounded by vast farmland, the location is remote, and coupled with it not being a holiday, tourists are scarce, making it exceptionally tranquil.
In one of the suites on the second floor of the guesthouse, the afternoon sun streams through the old wooden window lattice, casting oblique shadows on the polished wooden floor.
The room's furnishings are simple: a traditional table, two bamboo chairs, with two single beds placed against the wall.
In the corner, on a small table, there are two blue-and-white porcelain vases, with some freshly picked wildflowers inside, the petals still bearing dew.
The room is very quiet, with only the occasional rustle of wind blowing through the treetops outside.
On the left bed sits a young couple.
The man is wearing a faded blue shirt, the cuffs rolled up haphazardly, revealing somewhat rough forearms.
Upon them, faint unhealed scratches can still be seen.
