Wang Yunxiao had a very long dream.
In his dream, he saw mountains of gold and seas of silver, beauties like clouds, and himself sitting on a throne high above, looking down at all living beings.
Yet he was silent, like a stone, unmoved.
Eventually, everything gradually returned to silence, bringing him back to a tranquil and peaceful world.
The sun set in the west, and he stood at the entrance of a residential compound, quietly watching the children playing and frolicking in the distance.
Jiang Xiaotang, holding a candied haw, cried and tottered behind Wang Yunxiao, clutching at the hem of his clothes, refusing to let go.
Wang Yunxiao just silently watched as two children walked past him.
An ear-piercing air-raid siren came from the streets, and the footsteps of the pedestrians suddenly quickened.
The old man selling ice pops on the street, pushing his cart, ran all the way.
Wang Yunxiao stopped him, took out two cents, and bought an ice pop, eating it as he walked.
