Dragging his steps to the bathroom, the young man stood in front of the washbasin, staring blankly at the reflection of himself in the mirror—a figure both familiar and utterly strange.
For a long while, he couldn't be sure that the person in the mirror was really himself.
The young man suddenly felt an urge to cry. Once upon a time, he had his own livelihood. Though daily earnings were not substantial, through diligent labor, he managed to get by.
But now, looking at himself, he seemed no better than a beggar on the street. The grime on his hair had long since dulled its black luster, and his sallow, gaunt face showed not a hint of color.
The hardships endured on this path of hiding and survival were known only to him alone.
Fighting back the tears in his eyes, he twisted open the shampoo bottle, allowing a fragrant scent to escape.
