The street lamp outside the window flashed and shone on the faces of the two men.

Song Nanchen closed the curtains, turned off the overhead lights, and illuminated the storybook with a flashlight.

A gentle, magnetic, deep voice resounded slowly in the darkness.

"A long, long time ago, on New Year's Eve, it was terriblely cold, it was still snowing in the sky, and night was approaching, and there was a child in a tattered costume on the cold street."

"The slippers she was wearing seemed to be her mother's, and two carriages were speeding up, and the child was so frightened that she lost Yui's slippers."

Xiao Fubao listened to the little girl in the story, and couldn't help frowning: "Don't the little girl's parents want her too?"

Song Nanchen's expression was slightly stunned.

"This ...... I don't know, I guess I'm sick."

Seeing that Xiao Fubao didn't speak, he continued to read the story again.

"Her feet were red and blue from the cold, and the child's old apron was wrapped with a lot of firewood, and she was holding a tie, and she was shivering and crying out: Sell firewood! Sell firewood! Somebody wants to buy firewood!"

"There was no one to buy her firewood on the street, and the child was hungry and cold, and the snowflakes fell on her yellow hair, which was crystal clear and really beautiful."

"The street gradually lost smoke, and the windows of the street houses were opened, and the smell of roast goose wafted out, and the child was so hungry that she sat down between the two houses, and she curled up in the cold."

"The child is afraid to go home, because she has not sold a lot of firewood, she has not earned a copper plate, her relatives will definitely beat her, and the house is also very cold."

Hearing this, Xiao Fubao asked again: "Why did the little girl's father beat her? Is it because the little girl did something wrong?"

Would her father beat her too?

Song Nanchen stretched out his hand and rubbed her hair: "No, the little girl didn't do anything wrong, it was her father who was wrong."

"Do adults make mistakes?" Xiao Fubao asked curiously.

Hearing her words, Song Nanchen nodded, and the tenderness between his eyebrows and eyes was even worse: "Hmm. Adults make mistakes, and some mistakes can be avoided without vigilance, and sometimes mistakes happen without you noticing."

Xiao Fubao nodded as if he didn't understand, and continued to listen to him tell him stories.

"The child's hands are frozen, as long as you light a firewood, it will be warm, it is too cold, this firewood is ignited."

"There was light on the firewood, and the child put it on the light, and she seemed to be sitting beside an iron stove, with a bright brass round and a brass stove, and the furnace was so beautiful and warm."

"When the child tried to put his foot in it, the flame suddenly went out, and the furnace was gone."

"The child lit the wood for the first time, and this time she saw through the walls a table full of beauty, roast goose, fruit, and delicate plates."

"When the child was ready to enjoy the beauty, the wood was extinguished and became a thick and cold wall."

"When she polished the third stick, she saw the beautiful Christmas tree, and under the tree stood her grandmother, who loved her the most."

Xiao Fubao's eyes widened instantly.

Is a match such an amazing thing?

If Fu Bao lights a match, will he be able to see his parents?

"She wanted my grandmother to stay with me, so she polished all the firewood."