Black Sail

This room used to belong to a farmer’s daughter, featuring a dressing table, a full-length mirror, and a wardrobe that didn’t come cheap. Whether it was the cost of the wood or the fee for the skilled carpenter, it was impossible to purchase without at least four silver coins. With fine craftsmanship and large dimensions, the cost increased doubly, not to mention the additional expense for high-quality wood.

In Aran, a farmer who owned a piece of land was already considered a wealthy household.

Although she had just experienced some drama, Sharon, feeling warm, took off her coat but still felt uneasy, restless, and only leaned against the wardrobe with one arm crossed over the other, her white knitted top clinging to her body’s curves.

Although Liszt had seen it before, after such a long time, he had forgotten exactly what it looked like.

Having mixed in the lawless zones for so long, skilled in the art of manipulation, he understood perfectly the thoughts revealed by bodily movements.

Hands crossed usually meant skepticism towards one’s words, maintaining a reserved attitude, taking whatever you say with a grain of salt.

And the single arm cross was a display of insecurity about one’s current situation, marked by a sense of bewilderment.

"I cried when I received your letter at Heaven Port."

"It’s starting..."

"What do you mean ’it’s starting’? I read your letter back and forth over ten or twenty times, lying in bed and smiling stupidly."

"So, were you crying or laughing?"