Chapter 184

Chapter 184: Barely One Left in Ten

Inside the Charity Hall, smoke rolled in thick waves. Cries of infants mingled with older children’s desperate calls for help.

The fire raged fiercely.

Flames erupted from multiple places.

Ah Jian saw several women running toward a building engulfed in violent flames. Just as they reached it, a heavy wooden beam cracked and crashed down.

“Watch out!” Ah Jian lunged forward, grabbing one of the women and rolling clear of the collapsing beam.

Yet the woman paid no heed to her wounded leg, frantically struggling up. “Hurry! We must save them!”

“My lord, this is the nursery! All the babies inside are under one year—they can’t even run!” Another woman sobbed loudly.

Ah Jian froze in shock.

The commotion had already reached next door.

Du Yi Zhi knew the Charity Hall wouldn’t catch fire by itself. This disaster was because of the cotton stored nearby!

Save the children—or save the cotton?

“Boss Du, look! Fire’s broken out over there too!” someone shouted.

Du Yi Zhi’s gaze turned icy. Whether this was the work of the Southern Du Family or Prefect Yan—or both—such ruthlessness was beyond evil.

As Ji Prefecture’s governor and the prominent family nurtured by the people, they dared use innocent children’s lives just to distract him from the cotton.

Though clearly a wicked scheme, he had no choice but to fall into their trap.

Du Yi Zhi inhaled deeply, then shouted firmly, “Save the children first!”

Lost cotton could be replaced.

But if those babies perished in flames, nothing could cleanse their guilt.

Inside the nursery, dark smoke billowed, fire soaring to the skies. Everyone obeyed Du Yi Zhi’s command, risking their lives to toss buckets of snow and water onto the flames.

Yet the fire roared undiminished.

Ah Jian sniffed sharply. “Someone poured oil around. Water alone won’t help—we must get the children out first!”

He grabbed a bucket, poured water over himself, and dashed inside.

Du Yi Zhi stood motionless. He knew his strength. If he rushed in, he’d only burden them more.

One after another, the hunters charged bravely into the flames. The fiery heat seared their flesh, and beams crashing down echoed through the night.

Meanwhile, at the Du Family’s third branch:

Tonight, Du Cheng seemed a little better. Mrs. Du personally prepared thick porridge, rich with minced meat and fresh vegetables, grown carefully in their heated greenhouses despite the deep winter.

Mrs. Du worried her son would refuse, yet to her surprise, a thin hand reached out. Du Cheng took the spoon, steadily eating mouthful after mouthful.

Tears of relief filled her eyes. “Slow down, dear…”

“Mother…” Du Cheng looked up, voice rough. It was his first word since being locked in by his father days ago.

Mrs. Du hastily took the bowl. “Cheng’er, you…”

“Mother, I’m still hungry. Could I have more?” Du Cheng interrupted softly.

Stunned, Mrs. Du quickly nodded. “Yes, yes, wait here! Mother will get you another bowl!”

She hurriedly left.

Watching her figure vanish, Du Cheng opened his mouth, hesitated, then silently rose, swiftly putting on shoes and rushing outside.

Faster!

Hurry faster!

Maybe if he ran fast enough, he could stop them… maybe…

Du Cheng froze, staring at the blazing fire ahead.

He wasn’t alone. More and more people noticed the towering flames in the frozen night.

“Boss Du’s cotton is burning! Hurry, everyone! Put out the fire!”

One, two…

Villagers ran past Du Cheng, rushing toward the flames.

Suddenly, a woman carrying a bucket bumped into him. Weakened from days without food, he collapsed, retching up the porridge he’d just eaten.

Gasping, Du Cheng lay on the ground.

“Child, are you alright?” The woman didn’t recognize him as the noble young master of the Du family.

He shook his head.

The woman patted his back urgently. “Then Auntie needs to go help! Boss Du’s a good man! Without his cotton, we villagers would suffer terribly!”

She rushed ahead.

Du Cheng opened his mouth, wanting to shout—Du Yi Zhi was Du Ming Hao’s son! Du Ming Hao was wicked, harming innocents. Could his son truly be a good man?

Yet the words stuck in his throat.

He remembered his father’s words.

If Du Ming Hao wasn’t good for harming innocents, what about his own father, who risked dozens of innocent children’s lives just to defeat Du Yi Zhi?

The fire… burned deep into Du Cheng’s heart. He gritted his teeth, stood up, and moved again.

“What is Master Lin looking at?” Jiang Mang had brought back good food, realizing too late that Lin Yi was gone. Finding him outside, Jiang Mang followed his gaze.

He saw flames erupting skyward.

“That’s…”

“Fire!” someone shouted. “Boss Du’s cotton is burning! Hurry!”

The food stuck in Jiang Mang’s throat. Fire?

He turned to Lin Yi, whose face showed no emotion, then looked back out, hoping he’d misheard.

But he hadn’t. Shouts multiplied. More villagers rushed toward the blaze.

Jiang Mang grabbed Lin Yi’s collar furiously. “Master Lin, you knew already?”

Lin Yi coldly smiled, removing Jiang Mang’s hand. “Escort Jiang, don’t forget who your master is.”

“What are you saying? You mean… this was ordered by the Heir Apparent? Impossible! I refuse to believe it!”

Lin Yi remained silent, sneering.

Suddenly, Jiang Mang turned, rushing toward the flames.

Lin Yi didn’t stop him this time.

What could he change? Hundreds of pounds of oil. Dozens of young lives. Du Yi Zhi couldn’t possibly save that cotton.

“Still missing one! Boss Du, one child is still inside!” a woman cried, counting rescued infants.

Ah Jian had burns on his forehead, his arms scorched, and the hunters around him bore numerous injuries, yet they covered wounds with snow and prepared to charge again.

But just then, two shadows dashed past them into the flames.

Du Yi Zhi’s brow tightened. One figure looked familiar.

Suddenly, joyful shouts echoed.

“The fire’s out!”

“Boss Du, the fire’s out!”

Cries mixed with relief. Du Yi Zhi finally noticed—villagers had long gathered, desperately pouring snow and water onto the burning cotton.

Covered in soot and exhausted, they stood as the smoke finally cleared.

Yet once the flames were gone, scarcely one-tenth of the cotton remained.