Abandoned temple.
Duncan, emaciated and skeletal, sat in the corner of the dilapidated temple. Suddenly, a small, dirty hand reached out. The owner of the hand was a boy about twelve or thirteen, covered in mud. He glanced at the gaunt Duncan with pitiful eyes and whispered, "Are you hungry? I have something to eat."
A little beggar boy, just fled back from the north, his family all dead, leaving only him. He was called Lai Bao'Er.
Seeing Duncan didn't answer, he took it upon himself to retrieve a half-piece of dirt-colored lump from his tattered clothes, its surface smeared with mud and his own grime. He furtively offered it, saying, "Hurry up and eat before someone else snatches it."
"You look like you're starving."
As he spoke of starvation, there was a hint of sorrow in Lai Bao'Er's voice.
The autumn wind was bleak, the night breeze sharp as a knife.
Chill to the bone.
