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Bai Hermit's mother died after giving birth to him at the age of twenty. His father built him a room surrounded by walls. Sometimes his father could see the changes in his son as he grew up through the small hole in the next door. The only things in the house that can entertain me are a few books and a few picture albums in the bookcase, all about the beauty of the world and the kindness of human beings. There is a mural of a boy kissing his feet by the sea on the wall, as well as a bed, a table and two chairs. Mirrors and windows, tools that could illuminate his own facial features, were all gone, so the White Hermit was not a child who regarded himself as the center of the world since he was a child. If it was time to eat, a girl named Ding Xiaomi would bring the meal to him. Sometimes she would teach him how to read, write, and tell fairy tales, but she would always wear a headscarf to prevent the child from seeing the skin related to the human body. His father believed that as long as his child could not see the appearance of a human being, his innate desires would cease to exist. . . . . . . . .