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Author: Nan Erhua
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妄
A Hundred Years Old
Nan Erhua
55k Words
ongoing
It was three or four o'clock in the morning. In the dark and messy small rental house, the dusty incandescent lamp flickered on with a weak light and made a buzzing sound from time to time. The little boy was curled up on the sofa. His face was dirty, which was completely consistent with the surrounding environment. His disheveled hair, traces of runny nose and tears turned into a dark brown solid substance that stuck to his face, hands and clothes. A small ball appeared on the sofa. Outside the
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