That summer, the dim street lights illuminated the young man's lonely back. He smiled self-deprecatingly at the man leaning on the corridor: "Bai Li, I like you."
That summer, people in the dark corridors rubbed their aching stomachs with painstaking efforts.
That summer, she ran out of the home where she had lived with her brother for more than ten years penniless.
That summer, he threw away the boy's arm, but couldn't chase his sister back.