There was a sound of footsteps in the distance, crunching on gravel and steel bars. Shen Moxian didn't look back, but his ears moved. The three men moved lightly. They probably didn't carry heavy weapons. Sister Xian! The person who called her was Zhao Xiaoman, who was sixteen years old and as thin as a bamboo pole, but always had a smile on his face. Behind him were two younger children, a boy and a girl, both with gray faces and a look in their eyes that was all too familiar to Shen Moxian. Searched the canteen? Shen Moxian took the lollipop out of his mouth, carefully stuffed it back into the wrapping paper, and put it in his pocket. Zhao Xiaoman shook his head: I searched and didn't even find any mice. There were only a few bags of expired instant noodles left, and the seasoning packets had all been taken away. Normal. Shen Moxian stood up and patted the ashes on his butt.
