Here, all kinds of people were mixed together.
In the furthest part stood a thatched cottage in disrepair, its decrepit door hanging nearby. However, the yard was swept spotlessly clean. A little girl around seven or eight pushed the door open and, seeing her brother return, joyfully sprinted towards him. Her eyes shone like stars as she looked delightedly at the books he was holding, her voice filled with excitement, "Brother, brother, are these all for me? Are they all for me?"
Xiang Yang glanced around, then at the books in his hands, reassured that this was not a dream, but reality. He nodded vigorously, "Xiao Xing, these are all for you, bought by your brother."
