C1838 The Crying of a Child

Eight hundred people in a remote little mountain village.

From the village entrance to the end, there were only a few dozen houses.

As Lee Nanfang held Yue Zitong's hand and walked into the village, the kerosene lamp of every household lit up.

The light drove away the cold of the winter night.

Yue Zitong, who had regained her spirit