Jiang Tan stared hard at her, her voice sharp: "Ye Mu! Lift your head!"
The face in front of her was weather-beaten, her eyes filled with desolation, her face etched with deep, glaring signs of prolonged manual labor.
But Jiang Tan distinctly remembered, the energetic 18-year-old girl packed her bags and said to her, "Jiang Tan, I'm going to fight for a new life."
Indeed, life is not a comedy. For most people, their script is filled with scars.
Just like at this moment, Ye Mu looked at Jiang Tan across a makeshift stall. She didn't say a word, but her eyes seemed to say it all.
Gazing at this face that was both familiar and unfamiliar, Jiang Tan's tears fell a moment later. Her voice broke, word by word. It was not clear whom she was questioning.
She asked, "Ye Mu, why have you become like this?"
Jiang Tan took a woman of Chinese descent back to the welfare home.
