What remains unchanged is the dilapidated house. And a little girl in the dilapidated house, a dirty and unclothed girl. In her hand, she held a few rice balls. She curled up, and in a corner of the dilapidated house, eating the a little smelly and dirty rice balls. (As I wrote this chapter, I couldn't help crying, is it sorrow or sentimental, I don't understand why, but this picture kept popping up in my mind: in a heavy rain, a dilapidated house, a little boy pulled out a bird egg from the bird dropping out a bird egg, maybe, he is just an unknown unknown person in the story, but a little boy in my heart who wants to reach out to help. Alas... I wrote a book a little emotionally, I'll go to Shushu before continuing to write,)