"Zhou Zhou, do you remember Qin Sizhu?" Sisi reminded him with a smile.
Qin Sizhu?
A small, thin, dirty figure appeared in Huo Zhou's mind.
That was when he was in university. He had gone on a trip with his classmates to some mountainous areas in Western Sichuan. The people there were simple and honest, and the villagers welcomed them warmly.
However, the people leaving in the backward mountains were really impoverished. After staying in the village for a few days, he met a few very poor children. At that time, they were probably seven or eight years old. They were dressed in rags and carried heavy sweet potatoes to sell.
Huo Zhou was extremely shocked. After all, in his understanding, seven-year-old children in big cities were still acting cute under their mother's protection.
