After Yang Ge's figure disappeared at the end of the street, a young man with half his cheek swollen walked out of the backyard and into the front hall, mumbling: "Boss, it's time for breakfast.",After turning several corners, the path became increasingly rugged, yet Yang Ge's footsteps grew lighter. The heavy tricycle felt as light and nimble in his hands as a wisp of incense.,The old man carefully peeled back the layers of cloth, a beam of sunlight slanted in from under the eaves, reflecting a golden ray that momentarily blinded Yang Ge.。