How long ago was that?

In the story, there is a little girl, there are many people, all kinds of people.

They are dressed in tattered clothes and live in the darkest alleys.

They were the lowliest beings in the region.

Poor, beggars, prostitutes, homeless disabled people, looted civilians.

Yes, for them, there is only one thing left for their own human physiology.

Alive.

For people living in the slums, that's what they think about the most.

But that thought changed that day.

A cry, a baby's cry.

Unlike the cry of despair, that day, when the cry rang out in the slums, everyone woke up.

They crawled out of the garbage heap, from the corners, from the rotting and smelling corners, and gathered to the place where the cry sounded.

It was a baby.

Rare, white and chubby babies, things that most people have never seen at all.

People in the slums hardly see babies.

Pregnant prostitutes rarely keep their wombs, and abandoned children in normal families usually choose to sell them to the church rather than throw them in the garbage.

It was suggested that the child should be sent to church in exchange for a sum of money.

But no one acted, and they all knew that people like them could not get close to the church of the church, and even if they walked down the street with the child in their arms, they would be beaten to death as a child abductor and trafficker.

It was suggested that the baby should be left alone, but in the end, none of them chose to leave.

The baby was still crying, and time passed little by little, and at last, suddenly someone stood up and picked up the baby on the ground.

Then, the crying baby girl smiled, and at that moment, all the onlookers froze.

It was something they had never seen before, and it was impossible for people living in the slums to smile like that.

"Why don't we raise her?"

I don't know whose proposal it was, and for a while, the whole ghetto was boiling.

"But we can't even feed ourselves."

"I don't care, I won't survive for a few days anyway."

"It feels like a very good idea, and it's also a good choice to have another child before you die."

"Hey, you guys can't read at all, I can be her teacher!"

"I can pretend to be a businessman!" "Then I'll be a tailor!"

"By the way, we need another ......"

They began to talk about it, it was the first time in more than a decade that the slum had been so lively, and no one mentioned the matter of throwing away the baby girl, and everyone made the same choice.

"What if she's sick?"

"Then I'll carry her out into the street, I'm going to die anyway, and it's okay to be beaten to death by those bastard knights."

"I think it's better to find someone to go to the church and report that we've kidnapped a child here, so that the fake knights won't hurt her!"

"Ha, you're such a genius!"

"In our place of the hell, I guess we'll have to do it in two days."

"Hey, what do you think, I guess we'll have to do it tonight."

"Didn't we discuss it in vain?"

"That's not bad, is it?"

So, in this way, the baby girl grew up smoothly beyond everyone's expectations.

He was not sick, had no other problems, and even looked healthier than the children raised by the aristocracy.

And the atmosphere of the slums has quietly changed.

People are no longer numb thinking about how to live tomorrow every day, and their faces are starting to smile more, and their eyes are gradually brighter.

The little girl who grew up would visit everyone in the slum every day, and bring sunshine and hope to the people in the slum with that childlike smile every day.

At the end of the story, a kind wizard arrives here and accepts the commission of the people of the dying slum to leave the slum with a little girl who knows nothing and live a happy life.

This should be the whole story, but there is one place that everyone is missing.

The little girl is smarter than anyone could have imagined.

She has long known that the 'mother' who raised her is not her real mother.

She knew early on that the place she lived was not a 'street', but a slum.

She had known that the 'uncle' in front of the door was not a soldier, but a beggar with a broken hand or foot.

She knew that the food she ate every day was something that everyone in the slums had worked hard to get them, and that her clothes were the result of their best efforts.

She knew that everything she lived in was a fairy tale that everyone in the slums had worked so hard to weave.

"They told me that as long as I kept smiling and living, everything was going to be fine."

Ovilia said with red and swollen eyes, looking at Moya, and whimpering.

"So I laughed as hard as I could, and I followed Thea's mother's words, playing with them every day, calling their names every day."

"I told Thea's mom that I didn't want these things, that I didn't want clean food, that I didn't want new clothes, but she told me that they could only live in peace if they saw me doing well!"

"But they're still dead!"

"Uncle Kant died of starvation at home, and Sister Micha and Grandpa Kacha died because they had no money for treatment!"

Ovilia's crying voice echoed through the room.

"Obviously, as long as you throw Ovilia away, you just need to use all the money for yourself, but it's because of Ovilia's existence that they all died!"

"I don't want any food, I don't want any new clothes, I just want them all to live well!"

Moya looked at Ovilea, who was hysterically scolding her, and did not speak.

Whether it's the people in the slums who raised Ovilia, or Ovilia, there's nothing wrong with that.

For the people of the slums, there is no fault for their behavior of taking care of Ovilia even if they give up their livelihoods.

The only thing they didn't expect was that Ovilia was so sensible.

The little girl is not as ignorant as people think, and she has always known how cruel the truth of her growing up is.

But she couldn't debunk this lie, she couldn't bear to debunk this lie woven with good intentions, and she didn't want the hope in the eyes of the people in the slums to be dashed by her willfulness.

Wanting to die with hope is a choice made by the people of the slums, and the little girl who has not yet grown up chooses their respect.

So, in this way, Ovilia cooperated with the people of the slums, accompanied them in the fairy tale for six whole years, watched them go to death with a smile on their faces, watched them give her the best of everything, hid in the dark corners with a smile, and left one after another in the name of 'going out'.

Even if it was him, he had to admit that all this was too heavy for a six-year-old child.

If it were Moya, he wouldn't have any burden on it at all, because he knew that this was already the best ending.

But for Ovillia, all this is too cruel, and the kindness in her heart makes her unable to forgive herself, and subconsciously thinks that the death of the people in the slums is inseparable from her.

"Ovilia is a bad boy, a bad boy who killed everyone!"

Moya looked at Ovilea, who was sobbing constantly, and did not speak, but quietly stroked Ovilia's head.

"So, does Ovilia think that dying like this is atonement for their sins?"

Moya asked softly, not comforting, not persuading, but asking.