林枫又咽了口唾沫， chunks of black bread are hard to swallow. It's been three days since he started eating this stuff. His teeth are starting to ache. Only half a piece of bread, that's all he gets for his meal today. The oil lamp flickers in the bowl, its dim yellow light barely illuminating the scars on his face. These days, he's just drifting like a rootless boat in this broken temple.

"Where is dad?" He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse due to the lack of food.

As he said this, he remembered that when he was young, his father would always bring back food for him, even if it was just some fish or meat. But now, his father is gone, and he is alone. He suddenly felt a sense of helplessness, as if he had nowhere to go.

Roughly three days after Lin Feng said this, he was woken up by the sound downstairs.

"Old man, breakfast is ready."

The voice came from the head of the temple, someone known as the old man. The old man was an old beggar who had been living in the temple for many years, and he had taken care of Lin Feng after his father's death.