Standing under the dilapidated low eaves, behind him was the setting sun, its twilight casting across his surroundings. Jiang Zhihao felt as if he had just woken from a dream.,Jiang Zhihao saw the frail frame, and also the old clothes that he didn't know where they were picked up from.,The mother and child clung to each other, their faces etched with grief. It was a memory he would never forget, the most painful of his life.。