"Mama, I'm hungry."
A small child pleaded to her mother while pulling on the hem of her clothes.
"Mama..."
Hearing the soft and tired voice of her child, the mother felt a crack spread across her heart. As much as she wanted to feed her child, she could only bitterly look at the earthenware pot lying on its side in one corner of the small mud hut they called home. If one were to gather all the grains in it, it would barely be a fistful.
"Soon, Little Qiao, soon you'll be able to eat till your belly is full." She softly lied while gently rocking her daughter on her lap. How many times she had said the same thing, she did not remember. But those empty words were all she could offer.
The thin and sickly Xiong Qiao looked up at her mother with eyes full of innocence. Although malnutrition had caused her cheeks to sink in, her smile was as bright as the sun.
"Really, mama? Really?" She asked excitedly.
"Yes, Little Qiao."
