Uneven floor tiles, a lamp with nearly depleted oil. Even the blanket covering Lin Yin was patched up, and the entire room reeked of poverty.,Moments later, the pain on Lin Yun's shoulder gradually subsided. At the same time, he felt a new memory in his mind that didn't belong to him. When he looked at Shi Meng again, he couldn't help but smile softly: "Meng'er, your uncle is fine, you should go out first.","Practicing the art of crafting 'Qing Ling Pills'!"。