Things given by important people are indeed different; even the oil paper on them is decorated with beautiful patterns, making her hands appear even more withered and thin.
She paused, staring at her hand for a long time without moving.
The little boy's eyes lit up instantly. He took the pastry, carefully picked up a piece, and put it in his mouth.
The sweet pastries have a delicate aroma and melt in your mouth.
He didn't know what kind of pastry it was, he only knew that it was delicious.
It tastes hundreds of times better than the pastries my mother bought in the city a long, long time ago.
He smacked his lips, seemingly wanting more, but instead of eating any more, he picked up a piece and held it to the woman's lips. "Mother, you should eat some too. This is the first time I've ever had such delicious pastries."
The woman paused, opened her mouth and ate the pastry, only to find it very sweet, without tasting anything else.
The girl suddenly had a change of heart; she must have just thought of her as one of those cats and dogs.
I've heard it said that the livestock kept by wealthy families are more precious than people.
Seeing that the bowl was full of water, she placed it on the fire and poured in the fever-reducing herbs.
The little boy's spirits, which he had just managed to muster thanks to the pastries, gradually faded, and he fell asleep against the cold, hard cave wall.
The woman carried the little boy to the man's side, covered them both with thick clothes, and then sat by the fire, staring blankly at the bowl of medicine that hadn't boiled yet.
People from the capital have arrived again; I wonder how many days they will stay.
Like people in previous years, they'll probably just come, make an appearance, and then leave.
Thinking this way, the little bit of hope that had finally risen in my heart gradually disappeared.
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