Perhaps it was heaven's will, or perhaps he was simply sensitive to the word "orphan."
Leng Qingsong stared at the sign before him, his gaze seemingly nailed to it.
How could there be such a coincidence?
No, this wasn't Maple City anymore!
Why not go take a look?
It wouldn't cost anything just to look!
After a brief inward struggle, Leng Qingsong trudged in the direction the sign pointed.
The sky was clear and the moon bright. A layer of frost seemed to have been scattered over the winding path, and the farther Leng Qingsong walked along it, the lighter he felt.
Five years of ceaseless searching, ceaseless disappointment, and countless mistaken recognitions had left Leng Qingsong willing to accept whatever he might see.
Even if he still failed to find any trace of his elder brother this time, it would be no more than an interlude on his way back to Little Mountain Peak.
He had been an orphan himself as a child. There was nothing wrong with visiting the orphanage here!
Leng Qingsong muttered to himself, continually reminding himself that there was still little hope this time.
Only when he stood before a somewhat dilapidated barred gate did Leng Qingsong realize he had come at the wrong time. It was already late at night, and the children were probably asleep.
He looked around. Withered yellow ivy covered the mottled courtyard walls, and a large house in the courtyard looked shabby, yet exceptionally clean.
The courtyard was large, with all sorts of play equipment. It looked old, but someone had carefully maintained it.
The orphanage did not look well-off, but it was getting along well.
Standing before the iron bars, Leng Qingsong stared blankly at the little house in the courtyard.
He wondered what would have become of him