Chapter Ten: A Soft Heart

Zhao Mu kept a close watch on the man’s movements, his alertness spiking instinctively as he saw the man retrieve a tree branch.

The sky was dim, and he had no way of knowing if there were other refugees behind this man. If there were others—it wouldn’t even take many, just a dozen or so—he would be no match for them. In such a scenario, not only would his hard-won fish be stolen, but the fishing net he had just finished weaving would be taken as well. Worse yet, he might be devoured by starving wretches driven mad by hunger.

However, after picking up a branch of suitable thickness, the man did not look toward Zhao Mu. Instead, he used a sharpened stone knife to whittle the end of the branch into a point. He then approached the riverbank and began to observe the water intently. After a long while, he locked onto a target and thrust the branch down with all his might.

Only then did Zhao Mu realize that the man wasn't scavenging for branches to rob him, but was attempting to spear fish himself. Yet, if catching fish were so easy, the surface of the Fengshui River would not be littered with the corpses of so many refugees. This river, known as the Fengshui, had an unknown source; it merely passed through Haozhou City before flowing into the Qi River. The name "Fengshui" implied a prayer for a bountiful harvest.

Zhao Mu studied the man’s actions and glanced back at the direction from which he had come. Estimating that his own fish was nearly roasted, Zhao Mu immediately extinguished his fire. Since the glow had already drawn one family, he could not risk attracting any others. He felt a sense of gloom; he had rarely seen signs of people in recent days, and his luck today felt exceptionally poor.

Watching the man spear at the water repeatedly without catching a single fish, the woman accompanying him grew frantic. "Xing'er is already talking nonsense. If we don't find food soon, I fear she will truly starve to death." Her voice was low, filled with grief and urgency, laced with the thin, sharp edge of a sob.

Zhao Mu glanced at the young girl lying flat on the ground. He felt a pang of pity. Earlier, when she was strapped to the man's back, he couldn't gauge her age, but she appeared to be only four or five years old. At that age, in his previous life, she would have been the most cherished treasure in her parents' eyes.

Just then, the boy who had been with them stood up, his body swaying, and walked to the riverbank to join the man in searching for fish. But the river was wide, fish were elusive, and in the darkness of night, it was nearly impossible to spot them with the naked eye, let alone spear them.

After at least the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the man retreated, his shoulders slumping. He stared blankly at the Fengshui River, his eyes filled with despair. Since the great disaster began, he had done everything in his power to protect his family. But he had already lost his parents, and now, he could not even save his youngest daughter. What use was he as a man?

"Father, why don't you just eat me?" the boy spoke up suddenly from the side, pleading, "If you eat me, you won't have to look for food for me anymore, and little sister might be saved."

In the silence of the night, his voice carried far. Zhao Mu held his breath, looking at the boy in astonishment. In the first few days after he had transmigrated, he had witnessed many scenes of cannibalism. But those who were eaten were either helpless children or those who had been targeted by others and had lost all strength to resist. Even then, those people would cling to life and fight with everything they had. Yet, this boy was actively asking his own family to eat him? Even after ten days in this world, Zhao Mu found it hard to fathom.

The man turned toward the boy and raised his hand to strike him. But just as his palm was about to land on the boy’s face, he stopped. His hand trembled, and he began to stroke the boy’s cheek gently. "Huzi, you are my own son. How could I ever bring myself to eat you?" He pulled the child into his arms, quietly tilting his head back to hide his tears.

Men do not shed tears easily; it is only when they reach the depths of sorrow that they break. And here, "men" did not refer only to youths of twenty; for a man of his age, despair was only more intense, more turbulent—and far more suffocating.

The boy broke free from the man’s embrace and suddenly knelt on the ground. "Father, I have often heard it said that our bodies, hair, and skin are gifts from our parents. You and Mother have raised me for fourteen years; now it is time for me to repay you." With that, he lunged toward a tree that had long since been stripped of its bark.

The man’s pupils contracted in horror, and he rushed to catch him, but his foot slipped, and he tumbled to the ground. Zhao Mu let out a cold snort, thinking the man was being hypocritical; if he truly didn't want to eat his son, why would he have slipped at that exact moment? It was likely a tragic performance staged for his benefit, intended only to elicit his sympathy.

But just as he fell, the man reached out and grabbed the boy’s ankle with a death grip. Although the boy had also fallen, the man held him fast. He scrambled to his feet and pinned the boy beneath him. The boy lay on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

Before this chaos could settle, the woman, looking at her daughter’s deathly pale face, seemed struck by another extreme idea. She picked up the stone knife the man had used and began to saw at her own wrist. The stone knife was dull and did not break the skin immediately. Failing once, she tried again, and a third time... seemingly intent on not stopping until she had cut her own wrist open.

Zhao Mu watched these scenes unfold in a daze. Though he could not be certain if they were acting, he was deeply shaken. Could there really be such people in this world?

"Enough!"

Just as Zhao Mu was on the verge of relenting, the woman beside him stood up. "Take this fish. Eat it." She handed the roasted fish, of which she had only taken a few bites, to the woman.

The group froze for a moment, and then a look of frantic ecstasy appeared on the woman's face. Though it was only one fish, it was enough to save their family's lives.

"Thank you! Thank you!" The woman stumbled over, and instead of taking the fish immediately, she knelt and knocked her head against the ground repeatedly.

Zhao Mu sighed, suddenly feeling that his own heart had grown excessively hard. The woman took the fish to her young daughter, trying to wake her so she could eat. But no matter how many times she called out, the child did not respond. The woman looked at the man in desperation. The man urged, "Why don't you chew it up and feed it to her?"

With no other options, the woman followed his instruction. She chewed the fish meat and tried to force it into the little girl's mouth, but even then, the child was unable to swallow.