A quarter of an hour, it's neither long, nor short.
If it were as usual, it would have passed in a blink.
Xiaoqi looked at the lifeless Old Master Wang and then at Yueyue, whom he had protected under his body, and tears welled up in his eyes.
Just now, the hail had injured many people. Even the man who had tried to snatch food had been hit hard. Despite the pain running through his body, he had never stopped smiling because of the weight in his arms.
Among the refugees nearby, some of those with minor injuries were plotting something.
Wang Jingzhi sat on the ground beside them, not reacting much.
It wasn't until Yueyue's sobbing reached his ears that he seemed to regain his senses.
As he looked down and saw his grandfather lying on the ground, his face finally showed some emotion.
"Grandpa?"
His voice trembled and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
What happened to Grandpa?
