In Beijing in November, the wind has been cut like a knife, and the events in the summer square, like all the vigorous events in history, have been quietly buried in people's memories.

Time and history are so merciless.

At the same time, in a small southern city thousands of miles away from Beijing, the weather is not much warmer than Beijing, at five o'clock in the morning, it is still dark, the cleaners who sweep the streets have already begun to work, the small city is still relatively closed, the commodity market does not exist, so there are no businessmen who get up early and are greedy for darkness, and the streets seem particularly quiet.

There is a children's welfare home in the west of the city, and the people in the orphanage get up very early because there are so many children in the house that they have to prepare breakfast.

Aunt Jiang has worked in the welfare home for more than ten years, bringing up batches of orphans, some of whom have already been adopted and have grown up, and some of whom have disabilities and congenital diseases, and have left early.

But every morning, she would still get up on time, go to the well in the yard to fetch water, prepare a big pot of boiling water, and wash the children's faces and brush their teeth when they get up.

When Aunt Jiang was in the yard, she would always habitually look at the gate of the welfare home, because there were many children who were picked up by him at the gate in such an early morning.

Sure enough, Aunt Jiang saw a basket at the door again, and there were always some parents who found out that there was something wrong with their children after giving birth to them, so they threw them into the welfare home.

"What a sin...... Aunt Jiang thought, put down the bucket, came to the door, and looked at the basket, there was indeed a child in it, sleeping soundly.

Aunt Jiang took the child out of the basket and looked at the child, who looked beautiful and bright, and there seemed to be no defects on the surface, but it was cold, and her little face was a little red from the cold.

Aunt Jiang looked at the basket again and found that there was a small piece of paper inside, which read, "The lover is gone, there is nothing to love, it is pitiful to leave a son, I hope that a well-wisher will raise it and let it grow up healthily - Rui, no pen." ”

Aunt Jiang is not highly educated, but she also knows that the mother who left this child is estimated to be the death of her husband, and she doesn't want to live, so she left this child, and she doesn't know why she didn't hand over the child to her grandparents or grandparents to raise, but she had to hand it over to the welfare home.

Aunt Jiang could only sigh again, and at this time, the child in her arms cried out, and he was awakened by freezing.

Aunt Jiang hurriedly hugged him tightly and coaxed, and the child soon stopped crying.

"Poor doll, what's your name? The children in the welfare home are all surnamed Dang, and your mother's name is Rui, but she is really hard-hearted, so you, just call it Lei, Dang Lei......"