I stared at the crimson blood covering the ground, watching their faces reveal a ferocious resentment that scared me.
I was sick!
After a month, out of 138 little companions, fewer than 40 were left, only 38.
I originally thought that these 38 friends who survived would all be my partners in the future.
However, clearly, I was too naive!
Two years later, when I was eight years old!
Father locked these 38 companions in a huge cage again, then he said, "Tian'er, pick out your three best friends!"
At eight years old, I just frowned, thinking that father wanted me to pick three friends to let them out.
With great difficulty, I picked the three friends I considered my best.
But then, with a wave of his hand, father's subordinates pulled the person out in front of everyone, then directly placed him on a pyre—for roasting!
