"Outsiders... there's nothing you want here... go back... there's nothing here..." The old man puffed on his cigarette without lifting his head, mumbling.
His lips were chapped, and his voice was hoarse.
"Do you know we're here looking for something?" Xiu Jie Ming asked.
"I know... how could I not know... but there's nothing left... nothing at all... if you really want something... take these old bones of mine away... these old bones still have a couple of ounces of flesh... could make a pot of soup..." The old man said, pulling open his tattered, dark cotton coat to reveal his skin-and-bones chest.
He was so thin, thin to the point of almost not looking human, his skin clinging tightly to his bones.
He claimed he had a couple of ounces of flesh, but judging by his appearance, there might not even be two ounces of meat on him.
