The second day. When the wind blows, the dusk of the sky will be filled with sand and dust. Before a hut, a crippled teenager was sitting on a stone mill, his palms closed, his eyes closed, and rice grains remained on the corners of his mouth. His face was dirty. He was nobody else but Feng Zihe.

The white-haired old man picked up two buckets of water from outside and glanced at Feng Zihe, with a meaningful smile on his old mouth. It's not that he cured Feng Zihe's neurosis. Although he has the ability, he doesn't want to be cured. He could also see that Feng Zihe must...