Little Zhiyu had been sensible from a young age.
Life was decent in the Shen family when he was just a few months old. Luckily, Nanzhi ate well during her confinement, so he didn't get sick.
When Zhiyu was a few months old, Shen Wenchen left and never returned. The two old people in the family, always in sorrow, laid in bed from the time the child could remember.
He was skinny and would sit in the yard, playing with his little wooden horse. He would always see his mother's thin silhouette carrying stinky medicinal soup to his grandparents' room.
Then his grandmother died and was placed in a large square box.
Many people wearing white hats came to their house.
After that, the huge round table in their house disappeared. The large bed was gone, the chests were gone, his mother's beautiful silver hairpin was gone - even his little wooden horse was taken away…
He grew taller, but his mother always looked at him with sadness in her eyes.