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The child raised his head, blinked at his brother beside him who was carefully wiping his sword, and asked: "Brother! Brother! Why is your sword broken? And why does it still have color?" The brother beside him stopped and stroked the child's head. He smiled and said, "This sword was like this when it was born. As for the color of it! It's just like your skin and mine, it's been there since you were born!" The child nodded in understanding, and was about to ask a question when he suddenly found that his brother beside him had already stood up and left. He quickly chased after him, but found that he couldn't catch up. . .