Chapter Fifty-Two: Gentle

“Damn, I really don’t get what you guys are thinking,” the fat man grumbled, curling his lip in discontent. “But since you brought the meat, I don’t have a say. If you really want them to eat, let them eat.”
Liu Chang sighed, casting a peculiar glance at Xiao Yong and his mother. He realized that after deciding to kill them, they didn’t seem as much of an eyesore anymore.
He beckoned to the two, forcing a helpless smile. “Come, let’s eat together.”
“That’s right! This young man knows how to reason!” Hearing Liu Chang’s words, Xiao Yong’s mother adopted the triumphant look of a shrew who had just won an argument. She pulled her son up from the bed and looked at the fat man, saying, “It’s nothing, really. We’ll all be sharing a dorm from now on, shouldn’t we be helping each other?”
“Heh, you’re sweet-talking now, but what were you doing before? All these days here, all I’ve seen is you causing trouble, never helping us. Don’t talk to me anymore, I’m not interested.” The fat man turned away, his attitude provoking obvious dissatisfaction in the mother and son. Fortunately, Liu Chang interrupted the awkward atmosphere in time.
“Let it go, let’s just eat. We’re all hungry, I’m starving too.” Liu Chang sat on his bed, took a deep breath, and said, “Xiao Jing, go lock the door.”
“Okay.” The little girl obediently nodded and slid the bolt into place on the dormitory door.
Meanwhile, Li Qingshui silently pulled the frog meat soaked in formalin from the bucket, rinsed it thoroughly in another bucket of clean water to dilute the lingering chemicals as much as possible, then handed a portion to each person.
The moment the mother and son received their share, their complaints vanished. They fell silent, heads down, tearing into the fresh meat ravenously. Liu Chang too picked up his meat and began to eat.
Raw meat—this was the first time in his life he’d tasted it. The flavor wasn’t bad, the texture was even chewier than cooked meat. Despite the pungent smell of formalin, it was a hundred times better than the foul broth he’d had on his first day here.
Watching the mother and son devour their portions with animal hunger, Liu Chang could tell the meat was also far better than the tree roots they’d eaten before.
Yet, perhaps because of his burns or some other reason, he had little appetite tonight. He managed only half his portion before feeling unable to eat more. He put the remaining meat back in the formalin, sat on his bed, staring blankly into the air, his gaze unfocused.
“Are you feeling unwell?” The fat man asked with concern, “Are you sure your burns are healing? They still look bloody. Should Doctor Huang take another look? Maybe take some antibiotics later?”

“No, I’m fine. It just hurts; nothing else. I’ll take some medicine and be okay in a few days.” Liu Chang turned his head away, refusing to watch the others eat.
“Is there any more? We finished ours,” the mother and son’s voices still reached his ears.
“Eat, eat, eat. You’ve had more than a pound already, and you want more?” The fat man’s voice followed.
“Let them eat. They’ve probably been starving for days. It’s not easy to have a full meal,” Li Qingshui said, and after his words came the sound of fishing meat from the water tank.
The voices jumbled Liu Chang’s thoughts. Then, for some reason, the fat man’s earlier comment resurfaced in his mind: he realized the woman doctor in their dorm was here too. He turned to look at her wooden figure.
“Doctor Huang, thank you for checking on me today. Won’t you eat with us?” Liu Chang called to the figure facing the wall.
“I’m not hungry.” The woman turned, casting a wary glance over, as if sensing something off.
Seeing her eyes, Liu Chang fell silent.
Or rather, his mind fell silent. Before night fully descended, the only sounds in Liu Chang’s mind were the mother and son swallowing food. Nothing else. With his mind blank, he leaned against the headboard until the world faded into darkness.
“Xiao Jing, tonight I can’t hold you while you sleep. My chest and abdomen are burned, it hurts to touch.” As night descended, Liu Chang breathed in the cold air, picked up the little girl, and placed her on the empty upper bunk, forcing a smile. “You’ll sleep alone tonight. Are you scared?”
“I’ll be fine. Brother, get well soon.” The little girl nodded, showing she wasn’t afraid, then obediently lay down. She couldn’t sleep but closed her eyes anyway.
“This sack is so bloody, it stinks. If we leave it overnight, it’ll be unbearable. I’ll throw it out, okay?” Before bed, the fat man noticed the sack used for the frog meat was soaked in blood.
“Leave it for now. I’ll throw it out tomorrow,” Li Qingshui stopped him. “Go to bed.”

“Oh.” The fat man didn’t say more and lay down obediently.
Once everyone was settled, Li Qingshui pulled out some pills he’d grabbed from the hospital earlier, walked to Liu Chang’s bed, and handed them over. “Antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Don’t think being tough means you don’t need medicine. Take them and get some rest.”
With that, Li Qingshui climbed onto his own bunk.
Liu Chang stared at the pills for a moment, didn’t bother with instructions, swallowed a few at random, then lay on his bed, gazing out the window at a world devoid of scenery.
Until night fully arrived.
The night is always long for those who cannot sleep. Liu Chang silently counted numbers in his mind, passing the idle hours, until his internal clock told him it was nearly midnight and his ears told him the breathing and heartbeats of those around him had grown calm. Only then did he quietly slip from bed, retrieve the hidden scalpel, and barefoot, approached the two sleeping figures.
His footsteps were so light he couldn’t even hear them himself, so light that he could approach an animal within a few meters without being noticed. So, under the shroud of night, he had no doubt he could get close to sleeping people without being discovered.
But he was still nervous. The skills honed over these days let him control his heartbeat, but the sour saliva pooling in his mouth reminded him—he was very nervous.
Killing in a state of calm was a first for him. The last time he’d killed was to save the little girl, when those villains had cut her cheek with a knife. Then, his anger drove him to kill, and there was nothing special about it, not even a hint of pleasure—because when anger drives violence, the mind skips judgment.
But now, it was different. He felt tense, but his mind was calm. He knew exactly what he had to do—use the sharp blade in his hand to kill two defenseless people.
The fastest updates for Martial Movement of Heaven and Earth