In the woods east of Xiao Shi Village, five children around ten years old, their clothes made of hemp and their skin tanned by the sun, were crouching in the grass.,But after all, he is his own grandson, raised by his own hands, so he knows his temper best of all.,With a piece of wood in hand, Su Mingren walked lightly to the haystack. He grabbed Su Shier who was hiding inside, peeking out nervously.。