It was at the train station entrance. A young woman was carrying a boy who was only four or five years old. The mother and child were dressed in shabby clothes and were very dirty. Their clothes were not only dirty, but even their bodies were also dirty. They looked like a mother and child who had been wandering for a long time.
People who passed by them would pinch their noses. There were even people who ran far away from them. However, without exception, that woman would hold the child in her arms and kneel and kowtow to the people they see.
"Please help me. Please save my child. Please save my child..."
The woman's pleas were accompanied by a hoarse cry. It was raspy and ear-piercing. The child in her arms looked like he was dead. He was skinny, and his hands were placed weakly on his mother's arms.
The crowd only glanced at him briefly. They threw a coin or two and left. No one stopped to ask how they could help them.
"Child, child, wake up. Mommy is begging you to stop sleeping, okay?" The woman reached out to pick up the coins on the ground as she lowered her head to touch the child's face in her arms.
It was as if the mother's tears had awakened the child. The child's eyelids trembled slightly, and then slowly, he opened them weakly.
When the little boy opened his eyes, what he saw was his mother's tears. He lifted his thin, bamboo-like hand and gently wiped away his mother's tears. "Mommy, don't cry. I won't sleep again."
After saying that, the little boy coughed a few more times. "Mommy, I'm so uncomfortable. I'm in so much pain..."
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