My magic stick is going to heaven!

Wen Changlang flicked the silver dollar in his hand, then put it in his trouser pocket. Whatever he did, it was his that was thrown at his booth anyway.

Seeing that it was almost done, Wen Changlang buckled his feet, put on his big straw sandals, packed up his things and left Laopi Street.

After he left, a child limped out of a dark alley, heeled his feet to follow the back of Wen Changlang's departure, the clothes on his body were torn, his face was bloodless, and he was skinny His small body was crumbling in the darkening night.

-

Wen Changlang didn't take it very seriously at first, but for several days in a row, that little kid just ran over at some point, threw him a silver dollar, and then slipped away without saying a word. He was still dragged away by his fierce mother.

Treating your own children, you can still beat and scold like this, I am really not afraid of being disabled.

Today, as usual, the little boy still threw him a silver dollar, but this time, Wen Changlang grabbed his hand, pinched him directly under his arm, and grabbed his braid and asked:

"What's your name? Let me do the math. Up to now, you have given me five silver dollars in total. What do you mean, explain?"

Caught by Wen Changlang's armpit, the child didn't even struggle, but grabbed the clothes on Wen Changlang's chest with his dirty little hands, and said in a low voice:

"It's... still... five..."

Uh-huh?

"You mean to collect enough 10 silver dollars to buy me a talisman?"

The kid didn't come back, but just nodded a little scared.

Wen Changlang saw that his face was bruised and purple, so he knew it was screwed out by his mother who didn't know if it was his own. Seeing that he was naked, he was light and light under the armpit, and he was panting from time to time , the eyes are sunken and blue, he must be suffering from a serious illness, and he will die soon...

Wen Changlang took out a talisman that had been folded into a triangle from his trouser pocket, slapped it on his little palm, and said awkwardly:

"Hey, this stall is holding an event today, and this talisman is just five silver dollars a piece, so take it."

The little hand tightened, for some reason, when Wen Changlang realized it, the little boy had already buried his pale face in his clothes, weeping softly, as if grievance and fear were intertwined.

It is difficult for an upright official to decide on housework, and he is an outsider, and he is not good at taking care of other people's housework. Wen Changlang looked at the little poor child in his arms, feeling a little helpless.

In the end, he simply picked him up, put him aside, and said to him:

"You go home."

The little boy didn't speak, but just squatted there quietly, with his head lowered, and the thick dead air surrounding him made him even more pitiful, and made Wen Changlang feel that he was even more inhuman.

With a spit in his heart, Wen Changlang packed his things, stood up, stretched out his hand to him, and said:

"Hey, let's go, I'll take you to eat."

Hearing the sound, the little boy who was squatting on the ground suddenly raised his head, his moist eyes were full of lingering mist, and he was about to cry, feeling aggrieved.

Pulling that trembling little hand over, Wen Changlang deliberately slowed down his pace, walking slowly in front, while walking, Wen Changlang was still chattering.

"Hey, I've already invited you to dinner, so you should tell me your name too?"

"I said, how did you survive until now when the wind blows like this, huh?"