Lin Wanqing couldn't resist him, so she had to help him stand up slowly. Gu Lin's legs were still a little weak, and he swayed a bit as he took each step, like a little duck just learning to walk, but he held his back straight for fear of being laughed at by others. Guixin Valley is very lively. In the open space at the entrance of the valley, several young and strong men are building a new wooden house, which is prepared for the new batch of refugees who arrived last week. In the open space not far away, a group of children surround a middle-aged man, listening to him telling stories about the past, bursts of laughter from time to time. Over there, Aunt Zhang and a few women are busy at the stove, steam rises, and the aroma of the food wafts out.
This was a scene that Gu Lin had never dared to imagine before. Before the apocalypse, he was a gangster from an orphanage. He lived in a haze every day and didn't know where he would be tomorrow. After the apocalypse, he took "survival" as his only goal, grabbing supplies, hiding from monsters, and avoiding war. He never thought that he would have such a "home".
