My father died when I was young, and my mother raised me alone. But one day, when I came home, I found a row of shoes belonging to a man I didn't know lined up at the entrance... "My mother is remarrying a man I don't know." Although it should have been something to celebrate, at that moment I felt jealousy. My mother would become someone else's wife. Her gentle smile and her warm arms that embraced me would be taken away by another man. When I thought of that, my reason somehow broke down.