Born like weeds, carelessly thrown into the wilderness by fate.
No place to come, no way back.
Some people exchange a lifetime of humiliation for their lifetime of peace.
They used their blood and sweat to take root in the concrete cracks of the city and clumsily built the prototype of a "home".
They thought they had finally caught the light.
But then, what stretched out from behind the light was a carefully disguised knife.
Friendship has a price tag, love is full of lies, and even a stranger's smile may be the prelude to a robbery.
Deceptions, betrayals, and schemes are coming like a tide, and there are even sudden natural and man-made disasters, trying to uproot them.
Take away everything from them, but take away nothing.
The goodness that is deeply rooted in the soil, almost stupid, and the tenacity that is as inexhaustible as weeds.
When the whole world tells them to be bad, they choose to be the last fool.
This is a story about "what will people change in the end if they are not changed by the world".
Can they still believe it? Does that warm lamp really exist?
Can they keep their home and finally be reunited?
