allonlinenovel Chapter 1013: Perhaps we can get their doctor to come.
Chapter 1013: Perhaps we can get their doctor to come.
"Xiao Juan! My child! My Juan! Wake up! Look at your father! Look at your father!!" He suddenly burst into a beast-like wail, his voice hoarse and broken, echoing in the silent courtyard, sounding exceptionally mournful.
Hot tears, like a burst dam, gushed out, mixing with the blood and mud on his face, and fell in large drops onto Xiao Juan's cold, pale, and numb face.
In the dim light, those tears faintly revealed an ominous, dark red hue!
The extreme grief, despair, and the immense trauma of witnessing his beloved daughter being trampled upon yet being powerless to stop it caused him to shed tears of blood!
Crimson blood mixed with clear tears spread across Xiao Juan's face, like red plum blossoms blooming on snow, poignant and desperate.
Just then, the door to the inner room, which Widow Sun had been holding tightly shut, creaked open gently.
Widow Sun staggered out, her face as white as paper, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.
When she saw Xiao Juan, who was covered in blood and barely breathing, in Li Shouren's arms, she suddenly covered her mouth, forcibly suppressing the earth-shattering cry that was already on the tip of her tongue, turning it into a suppressed sob, like that of a wounded mother beast.
Her legs buckled, unable to support her weight any longer, and she collapsed to the ground with a thud. Her hands gripped the frozen earth tightly, her knuckles turning white, tears streaming silently down her face, her shoulders heaving violently.
However, the tragedy inside the house was not over.
The youngest, only three or four years old, who had been running a high fever and delirious, became increasingly weak after experiencing the horrific violence and extreme fright outside the door. Her already feeble breath grew like a candle flickering in the wind.
At that moment, she silently stopped breathing.
Without struggling or crying, she quietly ended her short but arduous life in a corner of the haystack.
Weakness and fear ultimately took her away; the rice porridge cooked by Widow Sun became the last bit of warmth she tasted in this world.
The cold wind howled wildly through the ruins of Nanjing, its sharp and persistent sound like the simultaneous weeping, shouting, and accusations of countless wronged souls.
They flew through the riddled walls, past the cold, stiff corpses, hovering above the heads of every survivor, telling of the city's endless sorrow.
Li Shouren sat motionless in the cold courtyard, leaning against a half-broken wall, holding his daughter tightly in his arms, as if trying to warm her gradually cooling little body with his remaining body heat.
He remained silent, his eyes staring blankly at the ground. The tears that had once flowed had dried, the burning anger had been extinguished, and even the bone-deep sorrow seemed to have settled, leaving only a deathly stillness, utter numbness, and nothingness.
He seemed to have turned into a stone statue, a stone statue bearing the deepest pain and despair in the world.
His mind was no longer filled with concrete images, but only with a jumble of chaotic, unsolvable questions swirling within him:
why?
The Japanese destroyed his home with bayonets and artillery fire, robbing him of his peaceful life and causing his wife and children to be separated.
He endured it, he accepted it, and he scavenged for food in the ruins like a stray dog, just wanting to survive.
He abandoned all his dignity as a man, knelt before his enemy, and begged, exchanging his wife's last wish for a meager amount of food to save his life.
He thought this was a glimmer of hope in a desperate situation.
But why... why was it not the invaders' bullets that ultimately dealt him the fatal blow, but the fists and trampling of his own compatriots?
Why do those who once shared a bowl of thin porridge and kept each other warm in the refugee camp become more ferocious than wild beasts in the face of hunger?
This cannibalistic world, this wickedness of human nature—to what extent will it push people to their limits? Where is justice? Where is fairness?
There was no answer. Only the howling wind, like a mockery of fate.
Just then, a series of hurried and slightly unsteady footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate, along with the "thump-thump" sound of a cane hitting the ground.
Widow Sun looked up alertly, and through her tear-filled eyes, she saw two figures appear at the open gate of the courtyard.
Walking in front was an old man wearing a dark crepe-colored sheepskin coat and a melon-shaped hat. His face was thin but he looked very tired. He held a sandalwood cane in his hand and needed to be supported by a man behind him who looked like a steward and was dressed in an old but clean gray cloth robe to keep his balance.
It was Mr. Chen, the silk shop owner and the organizer of the original refugee camp.
Mr. Chen immediately noticed the terrible state of the courtyard.
The ground was a mess, the widow Sun sat slumped and wept, and Li Shouren held a child in a pool of blood, looking like a soulless man.
His body swayed violently, his face drained of color instantly, his lips trembled, and his eyes were filled with immense shock, regret, and an indescribable sense of guilt.
"Shouren! Shouren!" Old Mr. Chen's voice trembled. With the help of the butler, he almost stumbled and walked quickly to Li Shouren's side. Completely disregarding the bloodstains and coldness on the ground, he suddenly knelt down beside Li Shouren with a thud!
This action caused his butler behind him to gasp in surprise and rush to help him up, but he waved his hand to stop him.
"Shouren! Look at me! The child! How is the child?" Old Mr. Chen stretched out his withered hand, wanting to check Xiao Juan's breathing, but his hand trembled violently.
He saw Xiao Juan's pale face and twisted arms, and tears instantly welled up in his eyes: "What a tragedy! What a tragedy! I've heard everything... those damned bastards, Manager Wang and his ilk!"
They've all gone mad! They're starving! And their hearts are completely black!
"I... I couldn't stop them... I'm so sorry, Shouren!" He pounded his chest, heartbroken.
Li Shouren's empty eyes shifted slightly, glancing at Mr. Chen before falling back down blankly to Xiao Juan's face, unresponsive, as if everything before him was separated from him by an impenetrable layer of frosted glass.
Seeing Li Shouren in such a state, Mr. Chen felt even more pain in his heart.
He gripped Li Shouren's arm tightly and shook it violently, his voice urgent and filled with a last hope: "Shouren! Listen to me! The child! The child is still breathing!"
She's not dead yet! You can't just sit here! You have to save her! You have to find a way to save her!
He turned his head, and the butler immediately took out a heavy little blue cloth package from his pocket and carefully opened it.
Inside were ten bright yellow gold bars, gleaming with an alluring luster!
Mr. Chen stuffed the cloth bag into Li Shouren's blood-stained hand, which was not holding the child. The cold touch and heavy weight of the gold bars made Li Shouren's fingers twitch unconsciously.
"Shouren, listen to me!" Old Mr. Chen's voice was low, but each word was clear, carrying an undeniable determination: "These are ten large yellow croakers! I originally intended to give them to you to take the children with you."
Now you take it! Immediately, grab the child and go find the Japanese! Go find them!
The Japanese have military doctors and medicine! They are the only ones who might be able to save the child's life!
Use this! Use this gold bar to pave the way! Maybe... maybe we can get their doctor to come!