Chapter 147: Are You Okay?
The dirt ground was so parched it looked as though it were smoking. The moment the water hit the earth, it was absorbed almost instantly, leaving behind a small, dark stain that faded into near nothingness within seconds.
The old man stood rooted in place like a withered tree trunk. He looked at the cracked, half-empty bowl in his hands, then lowered his head to stare at the vanishing dark patch on the ground. The deep grooves of his wrinkles sagged, and his cloudy eyes filled with raw grief and a hollow emptiness.
His spine, reduced to little more than skin and bone, bowed as he crouched down with trembling knees. He reached out a hand, wanting to touch that damp spot of earth, but his fingertips hovered in mid-air before slowly curling back into a hollow fist.
All around him, the alley was a chaotic swirl of noise—people fighting over water, screaming, cursing—yet no one spared him a second glance. No one cared about the spilled half-bowl of water that might not have saved a life, but certainly represented an entire day’s hope.
Inside the SUV, absolute silence fell.
The faint sense of order and liveliness they had seen in the Inner City seemed to have been wiped away by a harsh hand, exposing the brutal, authentic reality beneath: here, the simple act of staying alive burned through every ounce of human strength.
Chu Yang quietly looked away. His throat felt uncomfortably dry, and the sigh building in his chest remained stuck.
Su Mubai turned his gaze back toward the dusty road ahead. His fingers, resting on his lap, tightened into a fist before slowly relaxing.
Lin Xiao let out a heavy sigh, shook his head, and gathered his focus to keep driving forward.
Just as the vehicle rounded a sharp bend cluttered with rotting wooden planks and broken furniture, their field of view was cut short—
“Look out!”
A small, scrawny shadow suddenly darted out from the narrow gap between two crooked shacks, head down, sprinting directly toward the front bumper!
Lin Xiao’s scalp tingled with pure panic. His reflexes fired before his brain could even process the danger—his right foot slammed down hard on the brake pedal while his hands violently wrenched the steering wheel to the side!
Screeech—!
The piercing squeal of the brakes and the harsh friction of rubber skidding across dirt exploded simultaneously!
The SUV shuddered to a violent halt, the sudden inertia throwing everyone forward.
Chu Yang let out a muffled grunt as his elbow knocked against the back of the front seat, though he caught himself quickly. Almost at the exact moment he lurched forward, Jiang Jue’s arm shot across his chest, bracing him firmly against the impact.
Lin Xiao’s heart hammered against his ribs like a drum. The instant the car stopped, he tore off his seatbelt, threw open the door, and vaulted out, his voice shaking with lingering terror: “Dammit! You scared the hell out of me! Kid! Kid, are you alright?!”
Chu Yang and Jiang Jue scrambled out right behind him.
Su Mubai’s brow furrowed tightly as he pushed open his door and stepped down into the dust.
Sitting in the dirt in front of the bumper was a little girl who looked no older than seven or eight. Her small face was deathly pale beneath a thick layer of grit, her wide eyes glazed with pure terror.
One of her hands was pressed flat against the ground, the palm scraped raw with tiny beads of blood welling to the surface. Her other hand clutched tightly at her shirt. She was so petrified that she hadn’t even started crying, her mouth hanging open as her tiny chest heaved in rapid, shallow gasps.
Lin Xiao rushed forward and dropped into a crouch. He wanted to reach for her, but held his hands back in hesitation, softening his voice as much as he could: “Little girl, are you okay? Can you move? Where does it hurt? Don’t be scared, Uncle isn’t a bad guy…”
Like a terrified animal cornered in the wild, the little girl shrank back against the dirt, shaking her head frantically. Her lips trembled as she forced out a tiny, broken whisper: “I’m… I’m okay… It doesn’t hurt…”
Su Mubai approached, his sharp gaze methodically sweeping over her small frame before settling on her bloody palm.
The scrape wasn’t deep, but it was coated in coarse dirt and gravel. In an environment this filthy and crowded, the risk of an infection was dangerously high.
His eyes darkened. His fingers twitched by his side, a soothing wave of healing energy rising in his palms—before he immediately suppressed it.
This was an open street with strangers mingling everywhere and countless eyes watching from the shadows. Revealing a rare healing ability here was simply inviting disaster.
Turning his head toward Chu Yang, Su Mubai spoke in a steady, composed tone: “Third Brother, do you have iodine and cotton swabs?”
“Yeah!” Chu Yang replied at once. Dipping a hand into his jacket pocket, he smoothly retrieved a fresh bottle of antiseptic and a sealed pack of medical swabs from his spatial storage.
Just as he was about to pass them over, an anxious, tearful voice broke through the gathering crowd: “Xue’er! My Xue’er! What happened to you?!”
A haggard woman in her thirties with a sallow complexion shoved past the onlookers and fell to her knees. She pulled the little girl desperately into her arms, checking her limbs in a frenzy of panic: “Where does it hurt? Let Mommy see! Please, don’t scare Mommy!”
“Mom…” The little girl, Xue’er, finally found her anchor, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her dusty cheeks. “My hand… my hand hurts…”
The mother seized her daughter’s wrist. Seeing the raw, bloody scrape, her eyes rimmed with red.
She looked up, taking in the men surrounding them. Lin Xiao was tall and broad-shouldered, Chu Yang looked sharp and full of energy, Jiang Jue stood tall with an aura of cold authority, and Su Mubai carried a clean, aloof presence. Every one of them was neatly dressed with healthy, well-nourished skin—a stark, glaring contrast to the emaciated, sun-baked crowd living in the squalor around them.
Glancing past them at the rugged, well-maintained SUV, the woman’s eyes flared with intense wariness and instinctive dread.
Holding her child tight, she scooted backward through the dust, widening the distance between them. Her lips pressed into a tight, trembling line, her body shaking as if terrified they were going to hold her daughter liable for blocking the road—or demand something far worse.
Chu Yang took a step forward, dropping to a gentle crouch. He softened his voice as he held out the medical supplies: “Ma’am, please don’t be afraid. It was our fault for driving too fast and startling her. Her hand is scraped raw and needs to be cleaned right away, especially in this heat, or it’ll easily get infected. Take these, they’re completely clean.”
The woman stared at the bottle of iodine and the sterile cotton swabs, a storm of desperate longing and agonizing suspicion flashing across her eyes.
She knew very well that the wound needed proper care, but in a world like this, she feared the hidden cost of unexpected kindness even more.
After a long, agonizing pause, she shook her head, her voice cracking with rough hesitation: “No… no need, thank you… The child is tough… it’ll… it’ll heal on its own…”
Su Mubai stepped forward. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the murmurs of the crowd with unmistakable clarity: “Please take it. We were the ones who nearly struck her.”
His calm, gentle tone carried a quiet authority that naturally set people at ease. “Clean the scrape so the little one doesn’t have to suffer.”
The woman looked up at them once more. Although these men were clearly powerful fighters, their eyes lacked the ruthless cruelty common in the wasteland; instead, they held genuine concern and an unspoken apology.
Biting her dry, chapped lips, she seemed to make up her mind. Her trembling hands reached out, taking the bottle and the swabs. Lowering her head quickly, she whispered in a voice barely louder than a breath: “Th-thank you…”
Gathering Xue’er into her arms, she turned, desperate to hurry away from the road.
Suddenly, Xue’er wriggled free of her mother’s grasp. Dropping to her hands and knees, the little girl squeezed her small body down toward the dirt, reaching her uninjured arm deep under the vehicle’s front bumper—right into the narrow gap beneath the chassis.
Chu Yang and the others froze, their eyes tracking her movement in surprise.
They watched as the little girl reached as far as her small arm could stretch, finally pulling out the prize she had run into the street for: half a dried, dust-coated steamed bun.
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