⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣵⣄⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢾⣻⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡀⠀
⠀⠸⣽⣻⠃⣿⡿⠋⣉⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡟⠉⡉⢻⣿⡌⣿⣳⡥⠀
⠀⢜⣳⡟⢸⣿⣷⣄⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣤⣠⣼⣿⣇⢸⢧⢣⠀
⠀⠨⢳⠇⣸⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡟⢆⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠀⣾⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⠐⠈⠀⠀
⠀⢀⣀⣼⣷⣭⣛⣯⡝⠿⢿⣛⣋⣤⣤⣀⣉⣛⣻⡿⢟⣵⣟⣯⣶⣿⣄⡀⠀
⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣶⣶⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣧
⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⣿⡿

🌸⢀⡀🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸⢀⡀🌸 🌸
🌸🌸⡏⢢⡁⠂⠤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀ ⠤⠐⢈⡔⢹ 🌸
🌸 ⢿⡀⠙⠆⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠰⠋⢀⡿ 🌸
🌸 ⠈⢷𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓵𝔂 𝓰𝓾𝔂⡾⠁ 🌸 🌸
🌸 🌸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹🌸 🌸
⣰⠊⠉⠉⠉⡇⠀⠢⣤⣄⠀⠀ ⣠⣤⠔⠀⢸🌸 🌸 🌸
⠙⠓⠒⢦⠀⠱⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠎🌸 🌸 🌸
🌸🌸⡇⠀⠀⠏⠑⠒⠀⠉⠀⠒⠊⠹🌸🌸🌸🌸
⡎⠉⢹⠀⠙⡶⠃𝓦𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 ⠘⢦⠀⠀⡏⠉⢱ 🌸
⢧⡈⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⣠𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼⣄⠀⠉⠉⠋⢁⡼ 🌸
⠀⢉⣿⠖⠚⠛⢋⢀⠀⠀𝓯𝓸𝓻⠀⠀⡀⡙⠛⠓⠲⣿⣄🌸
⠀⢸⡇⠀⡞⠁⠈⡃𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮⢘⠁⠈⢳⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇🌸
⠀⠈⢷⣄⠀⠀⠙⠦⠌⠑⠢⠤⠔⠊⠁⢠⠎⠀⠀⣠⡾⠁🌸
🌸⠈⠛⠲⠤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣚⣡⠤⠖⠛⠁🌸🌸

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Трусы с волками)

In a small, isolated village, I was raised under the strict and twisted rules of my mother, Li. From the age of 18 months, she forced me into a life I couldn’t escape—a life of growing cannabis. While other children learned to talk and play, I learned how to water plants perfectly, trim leaves precisely, and maintain the right temperature and humidity. The grow room, bathed in eerie purple light, became my prison.

Li demanded perfection, punishing me for any mistake. My entire childhood revolved around cultivating her plants, unaware of any world beyond the stifling walls of our home. I soon realized that the cannabis I was forced to grow wasn’t for any noble purpose, but to be sold on the black market.

⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⣴⣿⡿⠿⠧⠹⠿⠘⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⢹⡇⣿⣿⣿⠄⣞⣯⣷⣾⣿⣿⣧⡹⡆⡀⠉⢹⡌⠐⢿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣿⣿⣿
⣾⡇⣿⣿⡇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢻⣦⡀⠁⢸⡌⠻⣿⣿⣿⡽⣿⣿
⡇⣿⠹⣿⡇⡟⠛⣉⠁⠉⠉⠻⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⡉⠂⠈⠙⢿⣿⣝⣿
⠤⢿⡄⠹⣧⣷⣸⡇⠄⠄⠲⢰⣌⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⡀⠄⠈⠻⢮
⠄⢸⣧⠄⢘⢻⣿⡇⢀⣀⠄⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠄⢀
⠄⠈⣿⡆⢸⣿⣿⣿⣬⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠝⠛⠛⠙⢿⡿⠃⠄⢸
⠄⠄⢿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⠁⢠⡇⢀
⠄⠄⢸⣿⡇⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣫⣻⡟⢀⠄⣿⣷⣾
⠄⠄⢸⣿⡇⠄⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢠⠊⢀⡇⣿⣿
⠒⠤⠄⣿⡇⢀⡲⠄⠄⠈⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠁⣰⠇⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿