In the blink of an eye, it was afternoon. Besides Jian Shiqing who was watching coldly, everyone else was eagerly engaging in conversation with the homeless people.
No one had eaten lunch yet, but they still hadn't found the person they were looking for.
Jian Shiqing stood in the corner, his eyes growing increasingly deep.
"Little brother, where are you from?" A ragged man sat across from Zhu Yiping, his gaze somewhat dazed.
He did not share the same eager hope of returning home like the others, waiting for someone to ask him, but instead sat there indifferently, with a hint of fear.
Upon seeing the young man in front of him questioning him, he slowly lifted his head and said, "I'm from Zhuzhao Country!"
After answering, he immediately lowered his head again, not daring to meet his eyes.
Because everyone here could account for their place of origin clearly, which was how they got food and Silver Taels. He didn't know if someone unclear like him could receive any.
