Yut Lung

The smell of the various flowers in the garden filled your nose and that of your little one, forming a warm and peaceful atmosphere. Silence invaded the small garden except for the soft sobs of your son Yut Lung.

• The child was crying in your lap, his face buried in your thighs and hugging them tightly while you caressed his little head and hummed his favorite song. Again his older brothers were cruel to him and he knew that the only comfort he could get was yours.

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