The next morning, Mike finished delivering goods and went back to the storehouse with a stone jar in his hand. He saw Daria standing under the tree in the courtyard and quietly looking at an unmarked lone grave.
Daria was gentle, still and gorgeous. No matter from which angle one looked at her, she looked as beautiful as a fairy in the paintings.
Her supple hair flowed like a waterfall across her purple dress. The dress fitted her well and highlighted her shapely figure.
"Who's buried in this grave?" Daria wondered. She still remembered the old man's lonesome figure. Regardless of the weather, he would sit here every night and keep vigil for the deceased. He also tended to the orchid beside the grave. The desolate expression on his face could make people's hearts ache.
She on
