He Fang and his team lay low in the grass, pressing their bodies as close to the ground as possible. To his left was Chong Xiao, and to his right was Chong Ying. The two pairs of brothers gripped their sharp, formidable weapons tightly, their full attention focused on their surroundings, ready for any unexpected developments. Meanwhile, He Fang stared straight ahead, as if waiting for something.
Behind them, their stealth aircraft remained hidden by the environment, with the entire team in full battle readiness, weapons already equipped.
They could hear everything happening on Min Zhizhou’s side, the conversation transmitted to them word for word. Everyone held their breath, listening intently.
As the dialogue played out, He Fang began to feel uneasy.
Judging by the voice, the person speaking with Min Zhizhou hadn’t undergone any vocal changes yet—it sounded like a young girl.
He Fang was shocked. A young girl, still in her pre-adolescent years, could speak so fiercely to a tall man clad in expensive armor? Had the world outside the city evolved to the point where everyone was a soldier?
The more nervous he became, the harder he listened. The girl’s voice was strong and confident, full of pride. To avoid being detected, He Fang had disabled the video feed, but his mind was now filled with the image of a fearless, sharp-tongued girl standing her ground.
Unable to hide his growing anxiety, He Fang connected to Zhu Yan, who was on the aircraft. “What’s Min Zhizhou’s current status?”
“All vitals are within normal range. No abnormalities,” Zhu Yan replied after glancing at the real-time data sent from the armor.
Then why hasn’t he come back yet?
He Fang was getting restless. Initially, he had insisted that at least one person accompany Min Zhizhou, but Min Zhizhou had refused.
“All cities have strict perimeters. You can’t approach them freely—you have to go through countless scans before gaining access to a mobile city. Don’t show hostility. Let them investigate us. If I bring people with me, they might feel threatened. That would cause unnecessary trouble.”
That was what Min Zhizhou had said before leaving.
Lying in the grass, He Fang thought back to those words. For some reason, he found himself thinking that this NPC was kind of cool.
The word “mercenary” alone already sounded cool.
Zhu Yan sat on the plane, having already removed his mask. Since there were no Nightmare Beast seeds, there was no need for him to wear that armor, which severely hindered his perception.
“Now that we’re outside, the detection range has expanded. Although detection was possible within the Nightmare Beast Forest, it was clearly still affected.” At this moment, Guo Miaofeng was diligently recording everything within his scope of duties. However, his heart was in turmoil. He had no idea what their Creator had detected. He and the machines had found nothing unusual, yet the Creator could always foresee when something was amiss.
Indeed, the Creator was a god, possessing powers that none of them could comprehend.
“We’re back.” Zhu Yan noticed Min Zhizhou’s return.
At the same time, on He Fang’s map, the priority marker for Min Zhizhou also began moving. Watching Min Zhizhou steadily make his way back to them, and seeing no suspicious figures detected on the map, He Fang finally relaxed and stood up.
However, when Min Zhizhou arrived, he was utterly stunned.
Chong Xiao and Chong Ying were now fully armed. Chong Ying, in particular, had even set up a cannon, its dark muzzle aimed right at him. The entire scene was overflowing with killing intent. Min Zhizhou broke out in a cold sweat—if he had returned with any danger, would he have been blown to pieces along with it?
Panicked, Min Zhizhou raised his hands. “City Lord, it’s me. Everything is safe.”
“What is it? What did you find?!” He Fang’s eyes lit up as he rushed toward Min Zhizhou. “Did you detect anything?”
“It was a small group,” Min Zhizhou thought for a moment before deciding to explain in more detail. “By ‘group,’ I mean those who lost their labor ability and were stripped of their residency rights in mobile cities. Typically, such groups consist of fewer than fifty people, mostly self-reliant wanderers. These groups usually exist only around mobile cities or near the paths they travel, surviving on luck. They pose no threat whatsoever.”
He Fang was stunned. He blinked, unable to comprehend. “No labor ability means no residency rights? Then what happens when people get old? Doesn’t the mobile city provide for the elderly?”
Min Zhizhou gave a bitter smile. “It’s already difficult enough to keep young people alive, let alone the elderly. People living in mobile cities generally don’t resent this policy—after all, when you grow old, giving up survival opportunities to younger generations is considered the right thing to do.”
Guo Miaofeng also heard Min Zhizhou’s words, and his heart inexplicably skipped a beat.
Unlike the others who had come out with him, his value to the Creator was rather limited. If he weren’t in the Creator’s city but in a mobile city instead, wouldn’t he be among those most easily eliminated?
“A city that can’t solve retirement issues but still exploits its young residents for labor? I don’t like it,” He Fang declared matter-of-factly to Min Zhizhou. “No way. I can’t allow it. My city won’t be like that.”
Min Zhizhou smiled faintly, but it was unclear what he found amusing.
“This small group is actually a bit strange. Among them, there’s a child.” Min Zhizhou frowned as he recalled. “Children are the only ones who receive special treatment in mobile cities. They shouldn’t be part of a small group like this. Normally, these groups consist only of the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled.”
He Fang’s heart thudded, and he asked hesitantly, “Is having a child in the group really such a big deal? Is this kid someone amazing?”
Min Zhizhou was momentarily taken aback, unable to grasp He Fang’s thoughts. A child was just a child. Since ancient times, haven’t children always been the same? How extraordinary could one be?
“Just… a rather unique little girl. She’s somewhat impressive,” Min Zhizhou mused. Indeed, she was quite special—so young yet able to distinguish Nightmare Beasts. That was no small feat.
However, He Fang’s expression grew even more alarmed. “How special? When you talked to her, did she keep a gun pointed at you the whole time?”
Realizing at last that He Fang was genuinely terrified of a little girl, Min Zhizhou quickly clarified, “No, City Lord. She’s just an ordinary child. She only looked a bit more energetic than most.”
An ordinary child…
He Fang thought about the infants in his city—babies who could crush Min Zhizhou’s hand bones with a single grip. Suddenly, he found himself feeling a sense of respect for that small group.
“Can we make contact?” He finally asked the most important question.
“They said they need food and medicine in exchange for information,” Min Zhizhou considered before continuing. “Normally, I wouldn’t recommend it, because a small group like theirs has very limited intelligence, and there’s a high chance their information might be inaccurate. But…”
“But what?” He Fang immediately asked.
Min Zhizhou averted his gaze. “I just feel that, in your city, food and clothing are never a concern. Using daily consumables as trade goods… I’m not sure how to determine their value.”
“Then should we bring more?” He Fang furrowed his brows in thought. “Roughly how much do they need? Do they require fresh vegetables? Do they need specific varieties? Or should we just bring all the food we currently have and let them choose what they need in exchange for information?”
Min Zhizhou’s expression grew complicated.
He Fang continued assessing the available supplies on their plane. “As for food, if we ration carefully, we should be able to spare some for trade. What type of medicine do they need? Medicine has to be prescribed correctly—we can’t just hand out anything randomly.”
Min Zhizhou’s expression became even more conflicted.
“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you saying anything?” He Fang asked in confusion.
Min Zhizhou hesitated before cautiously asking, “May I first ask how much food you’re planning to offer in exchange for intelligence?” It sounded like he was trying to gauge He Fang’s bottom line.
“The amount of food we brought is limited—we need to reserve enough for the return trip. But if everyone eats their fill, we should still be able to spare about twenty days’ worth of food for a few of us. Would that… be enough?” He Fang wasn’t entirely sure. The only thing he could do was calculate the maximum amount they could offer.
“……” Min Zhizhou glanced at Chong Ying, then at Chong Xiao. The two brothers clearly had empty heads, not bothering to think about the situation at all.
“Wait… is it not enough?” He Fang grew nervous and immediately became anxious. “Didn’t you say food outside is scarce? Even this much food isn’t enough for trade? Are they hiding some earth-shattering secret or something?”
Min Zhizhou unexpectedly showed a look of pure astonishment.
“What’s with that expression?!” He Fang felt uneasy under Min Zhizhou’s stare.
“You do realize that food is scarce right now,” Min Zhizhou couldn’t help but point out. “So why would you think this much food isn’t enough for intelligence exchange?”
He Fang froze.
He Fang fell into deep thought.
Then, slowly, He Fang turned to look at Min Zhizhou again—before shifting his gaze elsewhere.
Min Zhizhou was utterly confused. “…? What’s wrong?”
“Do you remember how many white radishes you ate when you first arrived?” He Fang asked in a hushed voice.
Min Zhizhou choked.
He Fang let out a helpless sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Normally, after experiencing extreme hunger, people can’t eat too much at once. Yet in that state, you still managed to eat thirteen white radishes. She’s definitely going to ask for enough food to feed a lot of people. Considering it’s a group of over ten people, I doubt her request will be small.”
Min Zhizhou: “……”
Min Zhizhou: “Alright, that’s my mistake.”
On the first day he arrived in He Fang’s city, Min Zhizhou had indeed been a little pathetic. At the time, he truly believed that meal was his last—his dying illusion of a feast before the end. So… he lost control a bit.
“Food is crucial. Based on how much a person eats in one full meal, in a small group that has already lost its food supply, a single portion could sustain someone for two to three days,” Min Zhizhou remarked with a sigh.
He Fang looked utterly shocked. “Then how did you even grow this tall? Shouldn’t you look malnourished instead?”
Min Zhizhou coughed twice, looking a bit embarrassed. “I spent all my earnings as a mercenary on food and equipment, so I ate better than most people.”
“You didn’t buy clothes?” He Fang couldn’t help but ask.
“I always wore armor, so there was no need to wear anything underneath,” Min Zhizhou replied.
He Fang was utterly thunderstruck. “So you’re telling me… when we first met, you weren’t wearing anything under that armor?!”
Min Zhizhou’s face turned red. Normally, not wearing clothes wasn’t something he found unacceptable. But after spending time in He Fang’s city, he had somehow developed a sense of shame. “No! At least… I was wearing underwear.”
At that moment, silence fell over everyone. Not only He Fang but even the usually expressionless Chong Ying looked visibly shocked. Chong Xiao glanced at He Fang, who was currently wearing armor, his gaze turning a little unfocused—who knew what he was thinking?
“I do wear proper clothes under my armor now,” Min Zhizhou quickly clarified. He had thought he had fully integrated into this group, yet here he was, getting his past actions dragged out and ridiculed. Embarrassed beyond belief, he immediately changed the topic. “That little girl specifically asked for medicine. Medicine is expensive. She’s smart—she definitely understands its value. That likely means someone in their group urgently needs treatment.”
“They’re sick?” He Fang paused. “Did she say what illness it was?”
“No idea.” Min Zhizhou recalled the scene. “Their group has around fifteen to twenty people. There’s no threat. We can make contact.”
“Then let’s go meet them,” He Fang decided, feeling relieved upon hearing there was no danger.
But as soon as He Fang climbed over the hill—only to have the barrel of an unfamiliar gun pointed directly at his head—he was completely dumbfounded.
Chong Xiao immediately stepped in front of He Fang as a human shield, while He Fang’s face turned ashen. “Min Zhizhou, didn’t you say there was no danger?”
“It should be mostly safe.” Min Zhizhou’s expression turned complicated as he studied the model of the gun protruding from the dilapidated wooden hut. Then, he glanced at Chong Xiao, who was standing there, ready to take a bullet. “I’m certain—it is safe.”
He Fang: “……”
Chong Ying’s expression darkened. The usually lively teenager was now surrounded by an ominous aura. Who the hell was this person, daring to point a gun at their Creator? Even if they could protect their Creator, that didn’t mean just anyone could aim a gun at him!
Chong Ying’s fury surged. Without hesitation, he strode toward the rickety wooden hut, weapon already in hand. He had locked onto that audacious fool’s head—one precise shot and it would be over.
“Leave…”
Inside the hut, the armed man—who had been ready for a standoff—suddenly felt as though his throat had been seized. His eyes widened in horror. He had barely spoken a single word before realizing he had completely lost control of his body.
The man belonged to a small group—a group with no real value to offer. The mere presence of several fully armed mercenaries before him was already a clear sign of trouble. He didn’t believe they had come with good intentions.
Even if it cost him his life, he was determined to drive these people away from here!
However, just as he aimed his gun at the approaching visitors, an unbearable chill suddenly crawled up his spine. It was as if a pair of icy, piercing eyes were staring down at him from above, ready to swoop down at any moment. He could almost feel sharp claws gripping his shoulders, their razor-like tips sinking deep into his neck—perhaps even puncturing his windpipe and snapping his spine in an instant.
Overwhelming terror left him utterly defenseless. In that split second, he lost all ability to resist. His hands trembled uncontrollably and his courage completely drained. He couldn’t even muster the will to grip his gun again. The sheer, absolute dominance pressing down on him made him lose control of his own body. Silently, he slumped into the chair by the window, his fingers loosening their hold.
The gun slipped from his grip.
It clattered down from the windowsill.
From start to finish, barely three seconds had passed. Yet in that brief moment, he had lost all will to fight.
And He Fang was utterly dumbfounded.
The gun dropped?
The gun just fell from the window?!
“Hey!” He Fang tugged at Chong Xiao’s sleeve, sticking out half of his head. “Hey, hey, hey! Is anyone there? Hello? Anyone? Hey?”
“No movement?” Min Zhizhou was just as puzzled.
“There was a guy there just now, wasn’t there? Where did he go? Did he disappear into thin air?!” He Fang was stunned. He turned to Chong Xiao. “Chong Xiao, why don’t you go check it out?”
Chong Xiao slowly turned his head, his pitch-black eyes deep and unreadable, absorbing no light. But he only gave He Fang a brief glance before stepping forward, striding straight toward the wooden hut.
Chong Xiao moved with steady, unwavering steps, completely unbothered by his surroundings as he walked straight into the wooden hut.
The structure was extremely crude—calling it a hut was generous. It was more like a temporary shelter hastily pieced together with wooden planks. What resembled a window was nothing more than a gap between the boards, allowing a sliver of light to filter through. Chong Xiao, being exceptionally tall, had to bend slightly just to step inside.
As he crossed the threshold from brightness into the dim interior, his pitch-black eyes swept over the man who had completely lost the ability to resist. This man must have had keen instincts and an acute sense of danger—otherwise, he wouldn’t have crumbled so easily under Chong Ying’s silent intimidation. He was dangerously thin, his sallow face nearly devoid of flesh. Though he was still holding himself upright, he looked as if he could collapse and die at any moment.
The only weapon in the room was the gun that had fallen outside the window. Inside, there was nothing but a single bed and a small, roughly constructed wooden table.
The silent, black-clad figure lowered himself, his towering form blocking out the last slivers of light from the entrance. He loomed like a massive, shadowy reaper, casting an overwhelming darkness over the man.
Sensing something, the man slowly lifted his head.
And then—he saw a face beyond description, a visage that could only be called the pinnacle of human beauty. Yet those cold, unfathomably dark eyes—devoid of any light—seemed to be looking at him, or perhaps… at his corpse. At that moment, the man truly felt the presence of death.
The pitch-black figure before him… Was this the legendary Grim Reaper? Did the Reaper truly exist? If he had believed in the gods while he was still healthy, would he have received their protection?
The man thought of his family, now far away from this place, and finally felt a little relieved. He knew he would die—perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow—but he had already accepted it.
Closing his eyes, he quietly awaited the arrival of death.
“Chong Xiao, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you moving?”
A clear voice suddenly rang out, cutting through the suffocating darkness like a blade. The man’s eyes snapped open in confusion, instinctively looking toward the source of the voice. And just like that, a delicate-featured young man appeared in his line of sight.
In that instant, the overwhelming darkness and deathly silence that had enveloped the towering black-clad figure vanished without a trace. The man turned back to look at the youth, his expression completely transformed. It was only through contrast that the man suddenly understood the emotion now present in those cold, unfathomable eyes—gentleness.
The young man’s gaze froze on him, and then—
A sharp inhale. “A dried-up corpse?!”
The man didn’t know why, but the moment he saw the youth, all his fear and despair evaporated. He even found himself responding, “I’m still alive.”
The wooden hut was tiny—three steps would be enough to cross it. Yet Chong Xiao had gone inside, and thirty seconds had already passed.
Even so, Chong Xiao was still inside, unmoving. Given his massive frame and the gaps in the wooden boards, he was visible from outside—but he remained frozen in place.
He Fang couldn’t hold back anymore.
He moved to the doorway and peeked inside himself.
And the sight before him made his scalp go numb.
The man standing there had wasted away to the point of deformity, looking even more withered than a centenarian. He was like a wooden carving of a corpse, dressed in clothing and propped up in place.
He Fang sucked in a breath, his mind filled with a single thought: A dried-up corpse.
Moreover, this “mummy” actually spoke!
He Fang clung to Chong Xiao in terror, wanting to look but not daring to. “Sorry, I was mistaken. You… hello, I’m a mercenary.”
The man looked at the young boy and finally gave a tentative nod.
“I sent someone over earlier to negotiate. Your people said you needed food and medicine. I brought them. Can we start the trade?” He Fang glanced around cautiously but saw no immediate danger, so he finally relaxed and spoke.
The few people who had come with him all sat at the entrance, while the man sat on the wooden planks of the small hut. His murky eyes still radiated absolute vigilance, yet beneath that wariness lay an almost unconcealable sense of helplessness and fear—he looked utterly pitiful.
In He Fang’s city, everyone was well-fed and plump. When had he ever seen such a skin-and-bones NPC?
The man looked completely drained, clearly underfed, and riddled with illness. His face was sallow, and dark circles loomed under his eyes. He Fang quietly pulled up the NPC’s attribute panel.
When he saw the stats, he froze.
These numbers…?
The man’s data was strikingly similar to what He Fang had seen from Min Zhizhou before—barely hanging on at rock-bottom levels, with an added disease debuff. Yet this man’s maximum stats were even lower than Min Zhizhou’s.
Such low stats…
And yet, despite how weak this NPC seemed, He Fang dared not lower his guard. The NPCs in his city could handle Min Zhizhou, but Min Zhizhou could handle him. He Fang couldn’t see his own stats, but he knew they had to be abysmally low. To ensure his survival, he clung tightly to Chong Xiao the entire time, while the stubborn Chong Ying clung to He Fang. The three of them looked like a conjoined triplet.
The man’s murky eyes studied them for a long moment before he finally asked, “What do you want to know?”
“How much food do I need to trade for your intel?” He Fang took the initiative to ask.
The man glanced at them before his gaze finally settled on a large bag behind He Fang. He slowly asked, “Is that a plastic bag?”
“Ah, yes.” He Fang wasn’t foolish—he wouldn’t let the man know in advance how much they had prepared to trade. He subtly used his body to block the plastic bag from view.
The man’s eyes wandered over the four of them. Everyone was clad in extremely dazzling armor. Now he understood why his daughter had said the armor was beautiful—it truly was. He hadn’t seen such exquisite armor in a long time. It was clear that these armors were symbols of their status and power.
None of them wore helmets. Aside from the man in white armor at the front, the others had no traces of hardship on their faces. Their complexions were fair and youthful. Unlike those who spent years enclosed in armor, pale and lifeless, these people had healthy skin—clear proof that they were well-fed and well-off.
Were they from a powerful mercenary group?
Only an incredibly strong mercenary group would dare venture into a place like this.
“How do you prove that you’re mercenaries?” the man asked. He didn’t actually need proof—he already knew they had no reason to deceive him. Their strength was absolute, overwhelming the weak like him. But by asking more questions, he hoped to extract more useful information from their words.
At that moment, the man in white armor beside them pulled out a weapon from his waist. An intensely bright lightsaber ignited, illuminating the entire area. The man’s eyes slowly widened—this was… a weapon against Nightmare Beasts.
Such a brilliantly glowing weapon against Nightmare Beasts—the light within it seemed almost tangible.
“If you’re mercenaries, why don’t you use your lightsaber to cut yourself and prove you’re not a Nightmare Beast?” the man asked. If a normal human were struck by a lightsaber, they wouldn’t be harmed—but a Nightmare Beast would.
“As a gatekeeper, shouldn’t you already be able to tell whether we’re Nightmare Beasts?” Min Zhizhou responded.
“I can confirm that you are not a Nightmare Beast. He isn’t, and neither is he,” the man said, his skeletal fingers pointing at Min Zhizhou, He Fang, and Chong Ying in turn. But then, his fingers finally stopped—pointing at Chong Xiao. “But I can’t tell if he is.”
“We are not Nightmare Beasts, so naturally, he isn’t one either.” Min Zhizhou understood the man’s concerns. A gatekeeper’s most fundamental method of identifying a Nightmare Beast was through their eyes—but Chong Xiao’s eyes were too deep, too unfathomable, impossible to read.
“Is that so? Then why not prove it?” The man’s gaze was now fixed on the lightsaber in Min Zhizhou’s hand.
“Because we really can’t.” Min Zhizhou casually dragged the lightsaber across the ground, carving a deep trench into the earth. “Our weapons against Nightmare Beasts don’t just cut through them—they can cut through anything. If I were to be slashed, I’d be run straight through.”
The man was stunned.
He stared at the deep trench in the ground, unable to speak for a long time.
This was… a weapon against Nightmare Beasts? Not something else?
He was a hundred percent certain that, at present, no such powerful lightsaber existed in the world—one capable of cutting through solid matter. Even the most advanced mobile cities were striving to develop such technology but had yet to reach this pinnacle.
He had only been away from the mobile city for a month. Had the world’s anti-Nightmare Beast weaponry advanced so dramatically in such a short time?
These people were clearly mercenaries, yet they had access to the most cutting-edge, top-tier Nightmare Beast weaponry. It was terrifying.
For the first time, a flicker of fear appeared in the man’s otherwise numb eyes.
These were no longer people he could afford to refuse.
All he could do now was obediently provide them with the “intel” they wanted—if he even had any to give.
Anxiousness crept into him. These people seemed like proper mercenaries willing to trade fairly, but what if he didn’t have enough useful information? What if they became enraged and decided to kill him instead?
“What do you mean by ‘gatekeeper’?” Suddenly, the boy—whose presence inexplicably put the man at ease—spoke up.
“A gatekeeper is the first line of defense for a mobile city. They can identify Nightmare Beasts and are equipped with armor and anti-Nightmare Beast weapons. Once they detect a Nightmare Beast, they drive it away or eliminate it. Gatekeepers are city guards trained from childhood to adulthood, possessing extraordinary abilities.” The man in white armor turned his gaze to the withered man. “You’re a gatekeeper, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” The man nodded.
“Which city are you from?” Min Zhizhou continued asking.
“Hope.”
“Hope City?” Min Zhizhou frowned.
“You know it?” He Fang asked curiously.
“I passed through it once. It’s a…” Min Zhizhou glanced at the man before deciding to explain it clearly to He Fang. “A city that doesn’t live up to its name. There’s hardly any ‘hope’ left in Hope City.”
“Why?” He Fang was puzzled.
“Because the lord of Hope City isn’t a strong leader. Without strength, a city struggling with scarce resources can’t obtain more. Early on, before the current city lord took power, Hope City was still developing normally. But after the previous city lord died and his son inherited the position, the decline began. By the time I passed through Hope City, they no longer had enough resources to trade. The entire city was already in a dire state. That was… about two years ago.”
The man looked at Min Zhizhou, the mercenary. In this era, the older a mercenary was, the more respect they commanded—it was proof of their ability to survive, their experience, and perhaps a bit of luck.
Mercenaries constantly dealt with Nightmare Beast forests and uncharted territories, where the death rate was sky-high. Min Zhizhou’s age alone was enough to prove his strength.
Terrifying… utterly terrifying…
The man couldn’t help but wonder why he had encountered such terrifying people.
“Don’t be afraid,” Min Zhizhou suddenly said to him. “Haven’t you already fired a signal flare to warn your companions to stay away from here? At the very least, you can relax a little and answer our city l—uh… well… our captain… vice-captain’s questions.”
Min Zhizhou’s mind stalled for a moment—he wasn’t sure how to address He Fang.
Only then did the man lift his head, looking toward the person Min Zhizhou represented—or rather, the boy himself.
Before illness struck him, the man had been an exceptionally skilled gatekeeper. He could tell who the true leader of this four-person squad was. However, what baffled him was how this sickly-looking boy, who seemed like someone even his weakened self could take on, had become the center of so many powerful individuals.
“What’s your name?” He Fang finally started his questioning.
“Zhao Wei,” the man answered.
“Brother Zhao, may I ask…”
Zhao Wei subconsciously swallowed. The one being questioned was far more nervous than the one asking the questions.
He Fang pointed to a nearby plot of land, where small sprouts had begun to grow. “Are you planning to settle here?”
Zhao Wei shook his head. “No, we’re just stopping here temporarily to resupply. We don’t have enough food to keep moving. Even though this place is dangerous, we have no choice but to plant crops here.”
“How many of you are there? And what’s your relationship with them?”
The boy’s question made Zhao Wei frown. “Do I have to answer that?”
“No, I’m just curious. Min Zhizhou mentioned that there was a little girl with you. But wouldn’t a child be highly valued in the city? Why would you bring her with you? Your reasoning might be something I find interesting.” He Fang asked.
The man’s eyes darkened slightly. The boy’s sharp intuition surprised him. He began to vaguely sense that this boy was different from the others.
Just as the man was about to speak, he suddenly coughed twice. But the coughing didn’t stop—it grew so intense that his entire body curled up in pain as if it were about to fall apart. He couldn’t even get half a word out.
At that moment, a strange bottle suddenly appeared before his eyes, and the boy’s voice sounded from above him. “Drink this. Consider it part of the trade.”
Although the man was puzzled by the strange bottle, he didn’t dare refuse what the boy handed him. His instincts warned him that if he disobeyed, the powerful individuals around the boy might suppress him immediately.
The man tilted the bottle to take a sip, but he soon realized that although the bottle was heavy, the liquid inside didn’t pour out easily. He lifted his head and saw the thick, viscous liquid slowly dripping down. His heart sank.
What… is this?
Could it be some kind of chemical reagent?
He wanted to refuse, but his fear of the powerful individuals around the boy made him ultimately choose to drink it. Yet, it wasn’t what he had expected at all. The liquid was sweet.
It had a unique, refreshing sweetness with a slight bitterness, though the bitterness didn’t affect the taste. The flavor was rich, melting in his mouth before smoothly flowing down his throat, leaving behind a lingering fragrance. The strange taste immediately soothed his painful coughing. While it didn’t completely go away, he felt significantly better.
And that was after just a single sip. If he drank a few more… The man couldn’t wait to take another gulp.
“Hey, hey, hey! Don’t drink it all at once! Just take one sip at a time. If you feel uncomfortable again, then take another. Drinking too much at once won’t help,” the boy hurriedly stopped him.
The man reluctantly lowered the bottle, his fingers unconsciously turning it around until he noticed the label. The words on it read Cough Syrup.
It wasn’t sugar, but it tasted like sugar. To the man, this kind of sweetness was something only the upper class of the mobile cities would occasionally distribute when they were in a good mood—an extremely rare luxury. No… this was even better. It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted in his entire life.
“Is this medicinal syrup?” the man murmured. “Medicine can be this delicious? It even alleviates pain… I really wish my wife and daughter could taste it too.”
“It’s just medicine—for cough relief.” The boy had unknowingly set aside his fear and approached him. “I don’t know what illness you have or what medicine you need. This is the only thing I have that I can give you. It should make you feel a little better after drinking it.”
The man stared at the bottle for a long time before shifting his gaze to the cap in the boy’s hand. The boy handed it over. The man carefully screwed it back on, holding it tightly as if it were a priceless treasure.
He dared not meet the boy’s eyes. In the gaze of this youth—whose demeanor and appearance belonged to that of a true ruler—he saw concern and worry. He dared not look into such eyes, afraid it was all a hallucination. After all, how could a person of such high status possibly care about people like them?
He Fang straightened up and scratched his head in frustration.
Stealthily, he pulled Min Zhizhou closer, pressing down on his neck. “Just for answering two questions, I gave him a whole bottle of cough syrup. Did I get ripped off?”
Min Zhizhou’s expression was complicated. “City Lord, even if you were in the city and gave away syrup for a question, you’d still be at a loss.”
“…You’re right.” He Fang glanced back at the man, who clutched the bottle with an almost reverent devotion. “Why do I feel like he just received some priceless treasure? Is it my imagination?”
Min Zhizhou shook his head. “It’s not. To him, right now, it truly is a priceless treasure. It’s medicine. It even comes with a bottle.”
He Fang couldn’t help but feel that it was too tragic—so tragic it made one unwilling to even think about it. “Do you all usually live like this?”
Min Zhizhou glanced at the man, who was nothing but skin and bones, and denied it. “Not exactly. He’s just… too miserable.”
Min Zhizhou looked at He Fang, who was deep in thought. The boy’s sparkling eyes reflected his serious contemplation. His delicate, finely chiseled profile exuded an undeniable charm. Otherwise, why else would the Chong family brothers be glaring daggers at his[mfn]MZZ[/mfn] back, practically stabbing him[mfn]MZZ[/mfn] bloody? Yet, Min Zhizhou dared not move, nor did he dare to push the young city lord’s arm off his shoulders. He was struggling. He was really struggling.
“We left Hope City of our own will. No… perhaps it shouldn’t be called Hope City anymore.” Zhao Wei gently caressed the glass bottle. Their city had once possessed the craftsmanship to make such bottles, but now— “Hope City… has already fallen.”
