In the twelfth month of winter, there were very few people on the street. At this time, someone was riding a horse and passing quickly through the road. The sound of horse hoofbeats fell on Yi An's ears. He had not asked for food for a day. He was only wearing a thin green shirt, and if it hadn't been for a large coat made of patchwork skins, he would have been freezing to death on the street. But even so, he only felt terribly cold all over. He returned to the ruined temple where he lived and used his last strength to rub the flint. After a few clicks, no sparks came out. He was a little anxious and had to continue rubbing. At this time, a sound came from the temple door...
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