The little one's purse connects the two worlds, turning a desolate village into a paradise.

Ya Ya felt like a little dandelion, being blown by the wind, drifting and drifting.

Finally, with a "thud," she fell onto the hard ground, her elbow bruised and stinging, jolting her back to her senses.

What met my eyes was not the gloomy sky of Lotus Village, nor the wrinkled, withered branches of the old locust tree, nor the dilapidated, drafty roof of the mountain god temple, but a blinding light—

Strings of red, yellow, and pink lanterns hung on the poles, a hundred times brighter than the oil lamps used during the New Year in the village! There were also square, shiny boards, flashing patterns she couldn't recognize.

It stung her so much that tears welled up in her eyes instantly.

The noise around her was even more unbearable. The rumbling of cars, the chatter of people, the sizzling of frying oil, and the clanging of objects all mixed together, making it noisier than an avalanche, and her ears were ringing.

Ya Ya's eyes widened, her little mouth agape, unable to close for a long time. She was so frightened that the hairs on her body stood on end, and her little hands gripped the purse on her chest tightly.

What place is this?

People came and went on the street, so many of them, wearing brightly colored clothes made of smooth, soft fabric, and some even wearing furry coats. Everyone was clean and tidy.

They walked quickly, carrying shiny, thin, square objects in their hands. Occasionally, someone would glance at Ya Ya with a strange, somewhat puzzled look.

On that wide road, people would occasionally ride by on two-wheeled iron beasts that rumbled past at high speed. As they passed by, a gust of wind would blow, making Ya Ya's dry, yellow hair fly wildly. She was so frightened that she quickly shrank behind a smelly tin box next to her.

The tin box was half-open, and it was filled with many things: colorful papers, round jars, various sharp and thin wooden sticks, and some she couldn't name. A pungent smell mixed with a hint of sweet and salty wafted over, making her nose sting. The little worms in her stomach woke up instantly and started crawling around frantically.

The nibbling made her stomach cramp, and she kept swallowing, her throat empty, there was nothing there.

She hid in the shadows behind the tin box, like a dusty little mouse, her big, round eyes warily scanning her surroundings. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she dared not let them fall.

This place was terrifying. The bright lights, the rumbling metal boxes, and the bustling crowds all made her feel uneasy.

She missed Grandma Liu, the earthen bed in Lotus Village, and Grandpa Village Chief.

Someone passing by the tin box glanced at her, frowned, and walked faster, muttering, "Dirty as hell, how come there's a little beggar here?"

Ya Ya quickly buried her head in her knees, curled up even tighter, and picked at the hole in her clothes with her little fingers.

She knew she was dirty; her face was covered in yellow mud, and her hair was a mess.

But that's how everyone in the village is.

She huddled in the corner, watching those strange-looking people walk around, carrying all sorts of unfamiliar foods, the aromas wafting far and wide.

Not far away were several oddly shaped, trumpet-shaped things, each tiny, but filled with little people shouting: "Takoyaki! Freshly made takoyaki!" "Bobo chicken, one yuan a skewer!" "Handmade tofu pudding, add toppings as you like!"

She saw some bags scattered on the ground around the stall, some containing round dumplings, and some transparent jars with half-empty liquid.

But she dared not move, nor dared she pick them up to eat.

Just like when they see unfamiliar mushrooms in the mountains, my grandparents always say that you can't eat things you don't recognize, or you'll be crippled and beyond saving.

This strange place was full of things she had never seen before.

Amidst the noise, a clear, small voice suddenly broke through, just a few steps away, carrying a pampered, spoiled tone: "This is too salty, it's awful!"

salty?!

Ya Ya's little ears perked up immediately.

It's salt!

It's the salt that Grandma Liu and the other grandpas and grandmas in the village keep talking about!

She quickly raised her head and peeked out through the gap between the two tin boxes.

She saw a young woman dressed in a bright red, soft, shiny fabric being led by an older woman holding a shiny board, while the woman held a round, brownish object in her hand.

The aunt holding the bright board heard the young lady speak, picked up the round thing that looked like a rotten egg, took a bite, frowned deeply, and then threw it on the ground.

"The braised eggs at this place are ridiculously salty!"

The round thing that had been bitten twice rolled a few times and came to rest right next to her little feet, still warm.

Ya Ya's little heart was pounding wildly, like she was holding a lively little rabbit that was about to jump out of her throat.

Braised eggs?

She stared at the thing, then glanced at the aunt who had led the girl away, making sure they wouldn't come back, before slowly reaching out her little hand and gently poking it with her fingertips—

It's soft, bouncy, and warm; there's no danger.

She had watched them eat these, like wild fruit in the mountains that had been pecked by birds; those who had eaten them knew they weren't poisonous.

Remembering what Uncle Zhao had said, Ya Ya became a little bolder, quickly picked it up, wiped the dust off it haphazardly with her grimy sleeve, swallowed hard, brought it to her mouth, and took a small bite.

The savory flavor melts in your mouth instantly, with a subtle meaty taste. The yellow filling inside is sandy, powdery, and chewy – it really is salty!

Ya Ya's eyes lit up instantly, and even the limpness and weakness in her body seemed to dissipate a little.

The little worms in my belly aren't nibbling much anymore; it's warm and very comfortable.

She wanted to take another bite, but just as she put her mouth to it, she suddenly remembered Grandma Liu with her forehead burning hot, Grandpa and Grandma huddled at the village entrance, and little Douzi crying.

This is salty, something that can save lives. We can't eat it anymore. We have to take it back and give it to Grandma, Grandpa the village chief, and everyone in the village to have a taste. Then everyone will have strength and will be saved!

Ya Ya quickly stuffed the braised eggs into her bosom and wrapped them tightly in her old padded jacket.

People came and went around, and more and more food was thrown away next to the tin box.

Ya Ya's stomach started growling again, but she bit her lip as she looked at the braised egg in her arms, her gaze slowly falling on the unfinished food.