"..." The old lady gave no response, her head bowed picking up bottles, her husky voice whispering incessantly.
"My bottles, my bottles!"
"..."
The old lady's pullover sweater had turned white with age but was clean.
Jing Yiren noticed the cloth shoes the lady was wearing; the ankles that were exposed were bleeding, staining the shoes. It must have been a fresh scrape.
Jing Yiren hurriedly bent over to help the old lady pick up the bottles and passed them to her.
"Thank you! Thank you!" the old lady said, after receiving the bottles and stuffing them into her bag, she looked up at Jing Yiren with a smile to express her gratitude.
The 'old lady' looked up, startling Jing Yiren and causing her to gasp silently, her face turning deathly pale.
Half of the face of the 'old lady' in front of her was disfigured, the skin raw red, hideously rough and uneven.
But just by looking at the other half of her face, Jing Yiren recognized her instantly; the woman before her was no old lady.
