The days passed one by one. More and more people came to adopt orphans, and fewer and fewer children remained in the orphanage.
The boy sat on the steps, smiling as he watched the little ones he had lived with leave one after another.
Beside him, Ou Ye might have been unused to partings, or perhaps he had a premonition.
He clung especially closely to the boy these days, growing frightened whenever the boy was out of his sight for even a moment.
It was as though he feared his older brother would vanish before his eyes in the blink of an eye.
At last, only the boy and Ou Ye remained in the entire orphanage.
The weather was terrible that day, with wind and snow raging together. Neither of them could go outside, so they could only play in the house.
The house, which had felt crowded when there were many people, now felt empty with only the two of them left.
They played until very late that day, and the young auntie prepared a lavish dinner that evening.
Ou Ye ate a great deal, occasionally placing food in the boy's bowl as well.
When bedtime came, Ou Ye seemed to know something. Sitting under his quilt, he looked at the boy in bewilderment and said, "Brother, we won't be separated, will we?"
The boy, who was reading at the desk, turned around and answered with a smile, "Of course not. How could we be separated?"
"I don't know, but I just feel awful. Everyone's gone. Will we leave too?" Ou Ye asked worriedly.
Ou Ye's voice was somewhat low, and even carried a hint of tears.
The boy put down his book, walked over to Ou Ye, and looked at him earnestly. "Everyone hasn't gone away. They're heading