Yongchang was left alone in the coffin shop, he put the lamp on a table, and looked around timidly with awe, and many people who were much older could not help but feel the same way.

An unfinished coffin rested on a swarthy stand, right in the middle of the hall, and whenever his wandering gaze accidentally fell on this terrible thing, and seeing it so eerie and dead, a chill immediately spread throughout his body, and he almost believed that he really saw a terrifying figure slowly raise its head from the coffin, and scare himself crazy.

A long column of identically shaped elm planks leaned neatly against the wall, like ghosts with high shoulders and hands in their trouser pockets in the dim light. Coffin nameplates, sawdust shavings, shiny coffin nails, black cloth shards, sparsely scattered all over the ground.

The shop was stuffy and hot, and even the air seemed to smell of coffins.

A piece of torn cotton wool from Yongchang was thrown into the recess under the counter, and the place looked like a grave.

It's not just these frustrating feelings that make Yongchang feel depressed.

He was alone, in a strange place, and it was well known that in such a situation, even the most powerful person sometimes felt desolate and lonely.

The child didn't have a friend to look after him, or, conversely, no friend to look after him.

It's not that he has just experienced parting with sorrow and hatred, nor does he feel heavy in his heart because he can't see a friendly and familiar face.

Still, his heart was heavy, and he was willing to be his coffin when he receded into his cramped bunk, and he could rest in peace in the churchyard, with the tall weeds swaying lightly in the wind overhead, and the deep ancient bells ringing, soothing himself from a long sleep.

In the early morning, Yongchang was awakened by the noisy sound of kicking and pounding on the shop door outside, and before he could put on his clothes haphazardly, the voice rang angrily and recklessly about twenty times. When he began to pull the latch, there was no more kicking outside, and a voice said, "Open the door, can you open it?" The voice shouted, it belonged to the same person as the two feet that had just kicked the door.

"I'll be right there, sir." Yongchang replied as he opened the door.

"You're probably the new guy, aren't you?" Said through a voice through the keyhole.

"Yes."

"How old are you?" The voice asked.

"I'm ten years old."

"Hmph, that old man is going to beat you up when he comes in." The voice said, "See if I beat you or not, we'll see, yellow-haired boy." The voice whistled at this kind promise.

For Yongchang, "beating" is a very expressive word, and he has learned countless times in this process, so he has no luck at all, no matter who he is, anyway, the owner of that voice is going to fulfill his promise with great dignity.

Yongchang's hand trembled and slapped the latch on the door and opened the door.

Yongchang looked at both ends of the street, and then across the street, thinking that the stranger who had greeted him through the keyhole just now wanted to warm up, and had already walked away, because he saw no one else, only a large man, sitting on a stake in front of the shop, eating a steamed bun.

The big guy tore the steamed buns to about the size of his mouth, and threw them all into his mouth with unusual dexterity.

Seeing that no other guests showed up, Yongchang finally spoke, "Are you knocking on the door?" ”

"I kicked it." The man replied.

"Are you going to buy a coffin?" Yongchang asked innocently.

As soon as he heard this, the big man immediately showed a hideous and terrifying look, declaring that if Yongchang joked with the young master in this way, he would need a coffin in a short time.

"From my point of view, you don't know who I am from the Nursery, do you?" The big man came down from the stake and continued with a gesture of enlightenment.

"Yes." Yongchang responded.

"My dad is in charge of the nursery," he said, "and you're in charge of me, put the window panels down, you lazy little scoundrel." ”

After that, Luce rewarded Yongchang with a kick and walked into the store with great vigour, which added a lot of glory to him.

Yongchang took off a heavy window panel and staggered to a small patio on the side of the house, where these things were placed during the day, but he broke a piece of glass as soon as he moved the first one.

Chen Alin, who was also an apprentice, comforted him, and then put down the shelf and helped to do it. After a while, Lao Shi came downstairs, followed by the proprietress .

"Yongchang, close the door. I've put your food on the lid, go get it yourself, it's your tea, bring it to the edge of the box, drink it there, hurry up, they want you to go and pick up the shop." Do you hear that? ”

Yongchang was staying in the farthest corner from the stove, shivering on a box, eating the foul food that had been specially left for him.

The apprentices in the neighboring shops always liked to laugh at Yongchang on the street with some unpleasant names, and even the most despicable people could point their noses at this orphan.

He took them all and did not make a counteroffer.