Yunqi squatted in front of the stove to add firewood, the flames licked the bottom of the pot, and the porridge and soup gurgled. On the corner of the stove lies an open copy of "Mencius", with fluffy burrs on the edges of the pages. It is the only annotated version of the classics and meanings saved by copying books for three years. He tapped the corner of the page of "Teng Wen Gong" with his knuckles, glanced across the two lines, and then returned to the stove. When the porridge boiled, foam formed on the edge of the pot. He reached out to lift the lid, and his fingertips were burned. He subconsciously pressed his thumb between his eyebrows.
This action has not yet become a habit, it is just an instinct when one is extremely tired.
The sound of the courtyard door being pushed open was dull, as if someone was kicking it.
