Quick Wear: Cousin, Come to the Bowl Quickly

The second male lead in this story is Shen Jingyuan, the adopted son of Commander Lin who is claimed to be his "distant nephew".

He was born in a narrow alley in Shanghai that didn't even have a name. His parents were unknown and his surname could not be verified.

Before he was ten years old, apart from being called "little punk" or "little bastard" by the well-dressed masters and ladies in disgust when begging, he didn't even have a name that could be called out properly.

Ever since he could remember, he had been struggling to survive in the cracks of this prosperous yet cruel city.

On a winter night, he curled up in a pile of abandoned sacks at the dock, listening to the whistle on the Huangpu River, his teeth chattering from the cold.

When the summer rainstorms poured down, he could only hide under the dirty alley eaves and compete with stray dogs for the small piece of dry land that could barely shelter him from the rain.

When extremely hungry, they would go to the dock to steal half a moldy steamed bun, or squat at the back door of the restaurant, waiting to see if they could fish out a few leftovers from the slop thrown out by the waiter.

If he was lucky, he could pick up half a dry biscuit. He would choke so much that his eyes would roll, but he would still wolf it down because if he was late, it would be snatched away by older children.

Being beaten was common.

Sometimes he was chased across the street for stealing half a piece of bread from a vendor, and sometimes he was kicked into the gutter by his followers for blocking the way of a master.

The worst incident was when he was so hungry that he reached out to touch the handbag of a foreign woman. As a result, he was beaten on the back by the police baton, and the skin on his back was torn. The burning pain made him have a high fever and he almost couldn't get up.

Everyone knows that Shanghai is prosperous, with bright lights and wine, but for little homeless people like Shen Jingyuan who have no money, no power, and even no place to stay.

Many times, their lives are not even as valuable as a pug held in the arms of rich ladies.

He grew up in a daze, stumbling around in those alleys that seemed to be forever damp and muddy, until he was seven years old, until that day.

It rained heavily that day.

Shen Jingyuan squatted under the eaves of the alley behind the Paramount, with a half-empty box of blackened shoe polish and a shoe brush with almost all the bristles falling off in front of him.

Even if these were thrown at the feet of the rich, they would not even take a second look at them, and might even kick them far away. However, they were exchanged for the eight copper coins that he had saved for half a month.

At that time, he hadn't eaten for two days, his stomach was burning, and his mouth was full of acid.

A man in a suit stopped in front of him, his leather shoes so shiny that they could reflect a person's shadow. Usually, this kind of man would not even look at him, but today he raised his foot for the first time.

"Clean it up, little bastard."

The man took out a cigarette from his pocket, put it in his mouth, pointed at the few inconspicuous drops of mud on the toe of his shoe, and spoke with contempt.

The choking smoke went straight into his nose. Shen Jingyuan, who had not eaten for two days, endured the nausea churning in his stomach and wiped it extra hard.

His hands were painful and itchy from the chilblains, but he still gritted his teeth and polished his leather shoes until they were sparkling clean.

"My lord, thank you for your trouble. Two cents."

He tilted his dizzy head back and spread his hands towards the man with a forced smile, but the well-dressed man just sneered, threw the cigarette butt into his shoebox, and ran away.

"Master! Money..." He staggered to catch up, but was pushed to the ground.

In the rain, the man's back was getting farther and farther away. That was his only chance to eat today. He gritted his teeth, got up from the ground and chased after him.

The sharp sound of brakes suddenly sounded, tearing through the rain curtain.

He felt a sharp pain in his ribs, and then he fell heavily to the wet and cold ground.

Rainwater mixed with blood spread under him, and the driver's angry curses filled his ears. He instinctively curled up to protect his head and face - last time a homeless child hit Boss Zhang's car and had his leg broken.

"what happened?"

"Master...it's okay, it's just that someone bumped into us."

In his ears was the driver's cursing voice and the dull sound of leather boots stepping through puddles. Here it comes, he thought, just like the old beggar said, the lives of people like them are not as valuable as the headlights of a rich man's car.

He counted the footsteps.

One, two, it's time for the fist to come down.

Third, it could also be that the person was kicked in the stomach by a leather shoe.

He bit his lips hard, tried to hold his trembling body, and swallowed the sobs back into his stomach.

But the fourth footsteps stopped abruptly.

The rain that was pouring on my body suddenly stopped.

Shen Jingyuan opened his eyes tremblingly, and the first thing he saw was the shiny toes of the boots, a pair of cowhide military boots belonging to a real officer, with thick soles and smooth uppers. Even the mud on the soles seemed to exude a cold and murderous aura.

"You're injured so badly, and you still say you're fine." A majestic voice came from above his head. Shen Jingyuan felt his body lighten, and then he flew into the air.

The strands of hair stuck to his face were brushed away by a warm, rough hand. Then the person holding him stiffened suddenly, and an unbelievable voice suddenly rang out.

"Master! How come this child looks..."