Undercurrent

under the roof, a pair of mother and son, who were as thin as a match and had unkempt hair and dirty faces, were hugging each other as they looked at the high wall more than ten meters away.

above the high wall, a wisp of green smoke was rising.

"Mother, I'm hungry Yingluo."

A child whose gender could not be seen muttered in his mother's arms in a weak voice.

The mother did not speak, but held the child in her arms tighter. Under her hair that was as messy as withered grass, the strong struggle in her dim eyes gradually turned into determination.

At a certain moment, she let go of the child in her arms and whispered in her ear, " "Zhenzhen, wait here. Mother will go find you something to eat."

"i know, mother."

The child, who was only three or four years old, was lying quietly on the ground, looking very obedient.