"Is this the time to be talking about this, Dad, Mom?" asked a boy of eleven or twelve beside her, in an untimely manner.
The boy's face was a bruised, purplish blue, making his expression look all the more dull and lifeless, his pale lips trembling in the bitter wind.
"We haven't eaten all day. You... you are martial artists and can still take it, but I'm still a child after all. Besides... besides, what if there isn't anyone selling sesame cakes ahead?"
Chapter 60