When Shi Xiaole woke up, the first thing he saw was a pair of big, innocent eyes looking at him curiously as if sizing up a fascinating new toy.
The owner of the eyes wasn't idle either, carefully caressing Shi Xiaole's face and occasionally comparing it with their own, sometimes puzzled, sometimes delighted, as two braids with sheep-horn buns swayed with her motions.
"Ya! Big brother, you're awake!"
The little girl, around six or seven years old, got excited catching Shi Xiaole's gaze. She didn't retract her hands but instead stared at him even more boldly.
"Ling'er, don't be too happy just yet. This sickly, weak shrimp might not even make it," said an old man with a round face and a smile, sitting by the fire.
Shi Xiaole responded with a bitter smile.
He couldn't move at all now, only observing his surroundings with his eyes. The description was quite apt. Remembering it was likely the old man who had saved him, he hurriedly said, "Thank you, senior, for saving my life."
