The oil sizzled and slid down the skewers, dripping into the flames and splashing bright yellow fireworks.

Loran Hill sat by the campfire, writing about recent events in a thick, open book. Some of the information she had received was from the Fire-Eyed Warbler organization, some she had heard on her own, and some had come via mail from the Carites Chamber of Commerce.

Iyena took the grilled skewers off, placed them on a hot wooden plate beside her, and handed them over.

"Sister Messia." She called the blonde girl's name.

"Okay, wait a moment." The girl raised her head in the firelight, put away her books and placed them on the stone beside her, then took the barbecue slices handed to her by Iena and started eating them in small bites.

"It's delicious." The meat was grilled hot, and it gave me a burning pleasure when I ate it.

Hearing the girl's praise, Iyena smiled and felt that she had been of some use.

"I'll cook some more oatmeal porridge. It will keep you warm at night." Yiena stood up and found some ground oatmeal from the carriage, put it in a small iron can, and started to cook it.

Loran Hill looked at the bland oatmeal porridge, then took out a sugar jar and poured a little white sugar into the porridge. An enticing sweet aroma wafted out.

"Is it sugar? It's so expensive." Yiena looked at the white sugar with some reluctance.

"Yes, but don't worry, because this is produced in my hometown, so it won't be expensive." The girl comforted, and then sat down with Iyena again.

"Did you rarely eat sweets before?" Loran Hill asked the girl next to him.

"Not often, because it's too expensive. Only during the winter festival every year does my father bring back a small jar of honey."

"In the winter, we could occasionally eat meat. My brother would grill it, and I would brush a little honey on the side to make it sweet."

"This is the happiest time of the year because I don't have to go out to work, and my dad and mom are always at home."

"It's just that my father would occasionally lecture my brother, saying it's wrong to think that way because if winter lasted too long, there would be nothing to eat at home. So, later on, he didn't like winter very much."

"This is what life is like..." Loran Hill listened to the girl's story while stirring the oatmeal, and scenes from his previous life occasionally floated through his mind.

There was a time when she was alone in her rented apartment, sitting by the induction cooker, cooking noodles, vegetables, and eggs. She did it to save money. It was snowing outside, and it was almost Spring Festival. But she couldn't go home because of work.

Ordinary life, a touch of loneliness, a little unsatisfactory and sad.

The words on the phone are familiar yet distant, and former peers are gradually becoming strangers. When we meet, we are speechless, with only a round of politeness left.

As I get older, I become more and more aware of the difficulties and complexities of society. I can no longer stand tragedies because they easily bring back sad memories. In the end, I only like light-hearted and happy stories.

Sometimes I give up on overly complex thoughts because it's exhausting. Understanding others is exhausting, and getting others to understand me is even more exhausting. So I keep silent and walk alone on my way to and from get off work.

I once hoped that the world would become a better place, but I was afraid to think about it carefully. How could it be called good? Everyone has different wishes, so in the end I could only give up with disappointment.

"The oatmeal porridge is ready." Iyena's voice sounded in his ear, bringing Loran Hill back to reality.

Loranhill hummed lightly, then asked Iyena to bring a wooden bowl and put the cooked oatmeal in it.

The delicate oatmeal porridge is like milk, rich with a slight sweet fragrance. After drinking it, your body will feel a little warmer, like a small stove flowing quietly in your chest, dispelling the winter cold.

Looking at Loran Hill's dazed look, Iena tilted her head slightly.

"Is Sister Messia thinking about something?"

"Yes, I was thinking about the people I knew in the past."

"Sister Messia would also feel sad..." The girl sighed a little. In her heart, the girl who rescued her was so strong and determined, and this scene was something she had never expected.

"Yes, and I will cry." Loran Hill smiled.

"Adults were also children before they became adults." The girl recalled her memories.

"I used to think my parents were perfect and powerful. This idea lasted for a long time. It was not until I returned to my hometown that I learned about my parents' past from other people." Looking at the stars in the sky, Loran Hill and Iyena talked about their childhood.

"When I was little, my mother often blamed me for not studying hard and not being proactive. This made me feel guilty and ashamed, but I was powerless to do anything about it."

"Until that day, I met an aunt in my hometown who was once my mother's classmate. She told me about my mother's childhood."

"It turns out that my mother was also a child who was afraid of studying when she was in school. Sometimes she even hid from the teacher and couldn't concentrate on her studies."

“Then the perfect and sacred image in my memory collapsed, and everything became clear and returned to reality.”

"They also have fears and boredom, but these are perfectly hidden in their lives."

"If you don't like bitter melon, they will say it's very nutritious and you must eat it, but they won't buy any vegetables they hate home." The girl said with a smile by the fire, her hair sliding down her shoulders.

"If you say studying is tiring and annoying, they'll talk about how they used to be. In fact, they also complained about it in the past, but the intensity wasn't as high as it is now."

"From then on, I knew I could no longer rely on the adults. Since the myths had dissipated, they were just mortals, with their own likes, dislikes, and weaknesses."

Under the starry sky of a winter night, in the cold and dark darkness, the bonfire burned quietly, and Iyena's face was illuminated by the fire, swaying slightly.

In those dark, gem-like eyes, the voice of the girl in front of him flowed slowly in his heart like clear running water.

She didn't understand what it meant to be touched, nor did she know what she wanted to express, but her heart had never felt so peaceful and calm. Perhaps the words she heard today would soon be forgotten.

But one day, perhaps at a special moment, or perhaps when a profound change occurs, you will recall it again in your mind.

If adults are just grown-up children, then who should I listen to and how should I face this strange world?

Who speaks the truth, who will I walk for, who will be my partner, and where will I end it all.

Maybe some questions will never have answers, but we must finally acknowledge the imperfections of ourselves and the world, and bow our heads to embrace this incomplete and beautiful reality.

As the night deepened, the remaining campfire emitted a faint dark red glow, and the two people who had been sitting nearby had already fallen asleep.

Under the vast Milky Way night sky, the tiny Mars twinkles faintly.