The heavy snow fell down like it was free of charge, half burying the threshold of the Broken Mountain Temple. Xiao Shuai huddled in the straw pile behind the statue, his teeth chattering from the cold, holding half a piece of moldy cornstarch so hard that it could knock his teeth tightly in his arms - this was his only food for three days.
He was only ten years old, and his parents had already died on the way to escape. Ever since he was abandoned in the wilderness, he had to survive by begging and picking up rags. But in this world, there are few good people and many evil people, especially those who wear the cloak of "righteousness", their hearts are colder than the ice in this cold winter.
Concept: The fantasy counterattack of the lowest level little guy