The Doll's Hand and the Sage's Hand

"I" had reached my limit. The days of my childhood were good, when I was merely praised for being like a doll. My fiancé repeated his affairs, I received jealousy from his playmates, and I was betrayed by my friends. In the midst of all this, my father tells me that in half a year, I will be married. Opening the bedroom door while carrying something heavy, the room before me was unfamiliar. "Welcome, young lady. I'm glad you came." A boy soprano voice echoed, and "I" lost consciousness. This is a story of "my" rebirth. The sage strokes "my" head. "You did well," he says with a smile.