On the main street of the northwestern part of the outer city, an old beggar sat on the roadside, dressed in black tattered clothes.
His body emitted a stench so foul that many people quickened their pace as they approached him.
Despite the putrid odor surrounding him, the old beggar wore a bright smile on his face, watching pedestrians move back and forth.
He was known as the Smiling Beggar, a fixture in his spot both day and night, indifferent to the occurrences in the city.
Today, however, things would be different.
As usual, the old man sat on his spot, smiling at passersby, unperturbed by the cold disdain in their eyes. He had grown accustomed to it. Suddenly, amid the throng of people, a child no older than eight approached the Smiling Beggar.
The child bent down, placing some bronze coins inside the small plate in front of the beggar and skillfully putting a folded piece of paper beside him.
