Compared to the dirty, unrecognizable homeless people around him, this sad child looked dressed decently, and while the others had thick mud scabs on their faces, and their bodies were full of stench and fleas, this child had a delicate, delicate and soft face. He knows to wash his face every day and bathe every week. But he would not tell anyone where he came from.

His face was haggard and malnourished, and he usually only curled up in the corner of the broken bed in his room like a frightened rat, and only walked around the yard when the weather was fine. The boy was strange, he always had in his arms a framed object wrapped in a broken bag, but no one had ever seen the frame in its true face.

He often watched the crazy child chained to a tree lose his mind, and he didn't want to be chained to a tree like that stupid child, fed like a dog; I don't want to be beaten to death in the yard by a couple of homeless people like another poor child. He wants to live, but he doesn't know the meaning of life, let alone where his future will go.

He is Yang Sanbao, 11-year-old Sanbao. One day after he became homeless, he walked along the railroad tracks to the city, and after being found by the police, he was taken to the shelter (at that time, Sanqing City was still called Sanqing County, and the aid station was still called the shelter). At that time, the shelter was a row of dilapidated bungalows, and the yard was overgrown with weeds, which turned into a muddy pond when it rained.

There are two poplar trees in the middle of the yard, one tree for the dog and the other for the man. Dogs are earth dogs, and people are crazy people. The shelter was understaffed, and Sambo remembers that only a few elderly men were in charge of cleaning, and occasionally a few uniformed people came in to inspect it, and at that time, a few old men would untie the chains of mentally ill or mentally handicapped homeless children who were chained to trees and replace them with another stray dog.

This row of dilapidated bungalows leaks wind in winter and rain in summer, and in broad daylight, rats dare to run around in the house and the bodies of homeless people.

Sam Bao still remembers that dozens of people would often fight over who would sleep on a relatively flat board bed at night and cover a quilt that was not too damp, but Sam Bao was a child, so he could only stay away, curl up in the corner, and spread straw under himself, where even newspapers were scarce. In this way, poor Sambo spent sleepless nights one after another. Until one day, a friend of my father's came to him, and took the town cadres with him, so Sambo left the place where he had stayed for a long time, and also bid farewell to his miserable childhood.

Now Sanbao is standing at the site of the original shelter, full of emotion. In front of the aid station for homeless beggars in Sanqing City, the former bungalows and yards no longer exist, replaced by two-story buildings, the poplar trees in the middle of the yard have been cut down, and the muddy pond that was overgrown with weeds has been covered with concrete floor. Although the hardware conditions are much better than before, you can see from the door, and the essence has not changed. The new filthy homeless people are still curled up in groups and lying all over the yard. From time to time, there were the miserable and crazy screams of homeless men from inside the door.

The head of the aid station was a middle-aged man in his fifties, and he wore thick cleaning gloves on his hands, and the stains on them had not yet had time to be washed off, emitting a foul smell of human feces.

"I'm sorry, just now there was a sheltered homeless man who pulled the ground, put a good toilet and didn't go, he had to pull the house...... Hey, you're a journalist too. Without waiting for Sanbao to speak, the stationmaster said to himself, taking off his gloves as he spoke, and he complained again when he washed his hands in the sink, "You reporters are okay to appeal to us, now that it's cold, more and more people are sending to the aid station." I don't want to say what I said, you reporters are really, one after another, and just reporting doesn't solve the problem. That's all for you, take a look around yourself, hey, let me take a look at your press card. ”

Only then did the stationmaster remember to ask for a press card. Sanbao looked at it stunned for a moment before remembering to reply: "Uh, I'm not a reporter. ”

"You're not a journalist, so you're here for help? …… It doesn't look like it. The stationmaster looked at Sanbao suspiciously.

"I'm Yang Sanbao, the mortician of Sanqing Funeral Home, and I want to ask something and find someone." Sambo said truthfully.

"Oh, Sanqing's! That's also a brother unit, your Curator Wu has also drunk with me, by the way, there is also Lu ......" The stationmaster heard that Sanbao is Sanqing's eyes widened, and he said excitedly.

"Lu Bingyi," Sanbao said.

"Yes, Lao Lu, how do you know?" The stationmaster asked in surprise.

"That's my master, and I learned how to make up with him. What do you call it? Sambo asked with a smile.

"My surname is Gao, Lao Gao. Oh, Lao Lu can be regarded as an apprentice. Stationmaster Gao looked at Sanbao happily.

The rest of the things are easier to do, and the stationmaster Gao diligently showed Sam Bao the photos he had taken of the children who had come to the aid station, "What are the specific characteristics of the child you want to find?" Stationmaster Gao asked as he clicked his mouse.

"Well, I look like I'm about ten years old, my face is a little round, my eyes are not big, I'm wearing light blue clothes, black pants, and I'm not tall." The Three Treasures gestured.

"It's not easy to find, my children here in the past few years have been here, but there may be misses, the flow of people here is too large, many children refuse to take pictures, I am all good to talk about shooting, just afraid that one day, people will come over. But the state doesn't stipulate that you have to take pictures, so I'm all doing it myself. In addition, the people at this aid station have everything, and there are often patients who die in the aid station...... Therefore, our two families are brother units. Your master and Director Wu have solved the trouble for me...... You see if there is, turn your head upside down. Gao said, pointing to the picture of the last child on the computer screen.

"No, no." Sambo sighed regretfully.

"Hey, then I can't help you, but what's the situation, I'll call you and give me your mobile phone number." Stationmaster Gao said enthusiastically.

"Well, I haven't bought a mobile phone yet, I'll buy it in a few days, or if there's anything, just call the funeral home, find me, Yang Sanbao, or my master." Sambo replied a little embarrassed.

'Cheng, then let's do this first, I'm busy here, so I won't send you, Xiao Yang. ”

Sanbao walked down the second floor disappointed, and as soon as he walked out of the door, he heard someone shouting behind him. Sam Bao hurriedly turned around and saw Stationmaster Gao trotting towards him.

"Xiao Yang, by the way, besides me, there is someone who may know that he has been here for many years and likes children the most. Let's go, ask him. Stationmaster Gao said excitedly, taking Sanbao's hand and bringing it in as he spoke.

"Who?" Sambo asked.

"Old Mo...... Old Mo! Old Mo! Stationmaster Gao shouted as he pulled Sanbao and walked inside.

As soon as he finished speaking, out of a dark room in the back room, a man came out, with kind eyebrows, with a contrived smile, his eyes narrowed into slits, and his body was strong, but his neck seemed to be sunk in his shoulders, and he walked out with his arms crossed.

"Lao Mo, this is Yang Sanbao's little brother from Sanqing Funeral Home, brother unit, I will inquire with you personally. Xiao Yang, at this time, the old employee of our aid station, Lao Mo, your Uncle Mo. Stationmaster Gao hurriedly introduced.

"Uncle Mo." Before Sanbao could react, Lao Mo's hand had already reached out, and Sanbao hurriedly shook hands, and at this moment, he found that the wrist where Uncle Mo shook hands revealed a strange triangular tattoo, and a pair of horns pierced out in the middle of the tattoo. Sambo was a little puzzled, it seemed that he had seen this symbol somewhere, but he couldn't remember it for a while.

Lao Mo saw Sanbao's eyes fall on his wrist, he smiled and let go of his hand, let the hanging sleeves cover his wrists, and asked happily, "Xiao Yang, what's the matter?" ”

At this time, San Bao suddenly found that on the shoulders of this smiling old Mo, there was a black mist-like object coiled, and this black mist slowly transformed into the shape of a human head, and then turned into an evil skeleton, floating between the two, and seemed to be observing and looking at San Bao.

San Bao knew that this smiling old Mo was probably shrouded in some kind of evil spirit, this person had evil intentions and evil spirits, but all this evil was hidden in his kind but hypocritical smile.