The village head is a tall, brawny, good-looking man who oozes masculinity. He grabbed his son's book and spoke while he reluctantly flicked through the pages. "What are you reading?" The man clearly was not fond of reading, because he has already closed the book and chucked it on the muddy ground before his son could even reply.

"Useless folk tales, they don't help you learn about the reality." He groaned as he shook his head, despising at his only son, who just appears to be the opposite of him. He is short, pale and feeble. Fortunately, he is as handsome as his father.

His son quickly knelt on the floor to pick up the book and wiped off the mud with his white silk sleeve."This's my favorite book." He whined a little, but he stopped as soon as he saw his father's face expression.

The village head caressed his spiky beard as he recalled his memories. His father was the author of that book and used to read it to him before he goes to bed. Despite he was a perfect father, to him, he never really respected him. Simply because he wasn't a successful writer. If it wasn't his uncle who later came to raise him up.  He would have just stuck in poverty and dirt with his father.

"Eh, he was pathetic." He muttered in low voice, "But...how did this dusty book get to you anyway?" 

"Oh, I found it in the basement. There're loads of books down there." His son replied in a timid voice.

"You wouldn't just want to read books for your whole life, would you? That's just..ugh. You know you should prepare yourself to become a real man." The father tu