Most of the people in the slums lived a life of hunger and cold. Here, they were satisfied with a good meal.
Standing in this dilapidated low house that was only two stories high, Yun Jian looked at the middle-aged woman who was dressed in linen and clothes that were patched with rags, and a cold light flashed in his eyes.
The woman walked around the back of the burning stove and placed her hand on her waist. She slowly bent down with great effort and picked up a piece of firewood and stuffed it into the stove. Then, she walked back to her original spot and continued to cook the rice with only a few shredded vegetables.
The room was dilapidated and dark. When a person stepped on the floor, it would make a creaking sound. It gave people the illusion that they could miss it at any time.
“Little girl, Make Way! Make Way!”An old lady’s voice came from behind as she stood outside the door and looked at the shabby room that was not closed.
