Chapter 647

Chapter 647: The Soft-Hearted God

The woman’s face lit up with joy, and even the refugees behind her took a step forward.

Whether intentionally or not, they had already surrounded the caravan.

“If living means suffering, wouldn’t it be better if I send her on her way first?” The man’s face was murderous as he glanced around coldly.

“If you wish to try, then come forth—I assure you, you won’t even have the chance to feel pain!” Windchaser declared icily.

The woman shrank back, clutching her child tightly, and immediately turned to hide within the crowd.

The refugees, intimidated by Windchaser’s fierce demeanor, retreated in fear, no longer daring to approach.

As the crowd dispersed, Windchaser’s eyes flickered slightly, his palm slick with cold sweat.

Though he was of the demon race, he had no desire to slaughter needlessly.

If he could deter them with mere words, then that was undoubtedly the best outcome.

By now, it was already noon, and the scorching sun twisted the air with its heat.

Inside the carriage, though the temperature remained pleasant, no one had the heart to eat the food in their hands. Even Shan Shan carefully drained every last drop of milk from his bottle. He cradled his small pastry with both hands, nibbling at it bit by bit, and even picked up the crumbs that fell onto the mat, consuming them all.

“Let’s find a spot ahead to rest,” Windchaser suggested after scanning the surroundings. He then led the caravan to a small hill for a break.

The refugees continued to follow the caravan from a distance, drawn by the allure of food, yet kept at bay by Windchaser’s intimidating presence.

As the caravan halted for rest, the refugees scattered about, some settling nearby.

When Lu Chao Chao and Shan Shan stepped out of the carriage, countless pairs of eyes gleamed with hunger.

Lu Chao Chao’s delicate, snow-like features and Shan Shan’s chubby, well-fed appearance revealed that they had never known hunger.

Scrutinizing gazes lingered around them.

When Zhu Mo helped A-Wu, her belly visibly swollen with pregnancy, down from the carriage, nearly all eyes fixated on her.

As soon as the caravan stopped, the refugees dispersed in search of food. However, many remained close, unwilling to stray too far. Before long, disputes began to erupt.

“I saw this wild fruit first! Don’t take it!”

“Whoever picks it first, owns it!”

A single shriveled, dry wild fruit exchanged hands multiple times, and men fought viciously, their heads splitting open, blood staining the earth.

Finally, a burly man, backed by his brothers, managed to clutch the fruit tightly.

He squeezed out a few drops of juice and carefully dripped them into the mouth of his unconscious elderly mother.

“Find water!” he roared desperately.

There had been no water source along this journey, and countless had already perished.

Dressed in short summer clothes, Shan Shan wobbled a few steps before stepping on sharp stones and plopping down onto the scorching ground. His open-bottom pants offered no protection, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail.

“Owwww—hot, hot, hot!”

The little one scrambled to his feet in a panic, his chubby white bottom turning red from the heat.

The wet nurse rushed over in alarm to help him up.

Tears sparkled on Shan Shan’s face as he sobbed, “Cooked… cooked…”

“Did your bottom get cooked?” the wet nurse asked, torn between amusement and concern.

Ever since he had learned to walk, the young master refused to be led by the hand. Today, he paid the price for his stubbornness on the scorching ground.

“It’s not cooked, don’t worry,” she reassured him with a smile.

As they rested, fights broke out repeatedly among the refugees.

Even the few tufts of yellowish-green grass hidden in the cracks of rocks—unnoticed by the locusts—were fought over, leaving many bloodied.

Even the dirt clinging to the wild grass was swallowed whole in desperation.

They dug feverishly through the hill, overturning stones, but there was nothing left to eat.

Shan Shan clung tightly to his sister’s clothes, watching in confusion as people scavenged the slopes for small white stones. He saw them clutching the stones tightly to their chests, treasuring them, and finally, unable to bear the hunger any longer, sitting down in the shade.

They crushed the small stones, bit by bit, and placed them into their mouths.

Dry and gritty, they chewed with difficulty, their throats tightening as they forced the powder down.

Shan Shan’s eyes widened in shock. “Eating… stones?”

He looked down, picking up a small white stone with curiosity.

Before anyone could stop him, he popped it into his mouth.

A split second later, his cheeks puffed up, his mouth filled with grit, unable to swallow.

“Ptooey! Ptooey!” He gagged, tears spilling from his eyes.

The wet nurse, terrified, hurriedly grabbed him, turning him over and patting his back until the clay fell from his mouth.

“Little ancestor, how can you eat anything you find?”

“This stuff gets stuck in the stomach and never comes out—it can be deadly!” she scolded anxiously.

Shan Shan pointed toward the distance.

Only then did the wet nurse sigh. “In times of disaster, there’s no choice.”

Along the way, even tree roots buried deep underground had been unearthed. Any root with a bit of moisture was considered a treasure for survival. Every so often, refugees would chew on these fibrous roots just to sustain themselves.

“That’s Guanyin Clay,” she explained. “It expands in the stomach, making one feel full.”

“But it can’t be digested. In past famines, people’s bellies would swell, and they’d suffocate to death.”

Lu Chao Chao stood up. “I’m going to look around.”

Windchaser immediately followed. “I’ll go with you.”

In years of disaster, women and children were considered less than human.

They were merely reserves—food for those stronger than them.

Lu Chao Chao shook her head. “I know what you’re thinking, but my Sunshine Sword is not just for show.”

Windchaser hesitated before stepping back.

A-Wu stood as well, supporting her belly. Instantly, all eyes locked onto her swollen stomach.

Zhu Mo glared at them warningly, not daring to step away.

Lu Chao Chao had barely taken a few steps when she sensed figures trailing behind her.

She wandered around the small hill, eventually finding a dried-up riverbed. Though the river had long vanished, the ground still held some dampness.

Barefoot refugees waded through the thick mud, searching for loaches to eat. The woman who had earlier pleaded with Windchaser was among them, her face and arms smeared with mud.

She glanced at Lu Chao Chao—her clothes, though simple, were made of fine material. Her fair skin was clean, her hair neatly tied, making her look as if she had stepped out of a celestial painting.

The woman’s gaze then drifted to her own skeletal child at the riverbank.

Same world, different fates. Two extremes.

Lu Chao Chao said nothing and continued upstream. As she walked, even the mud turned cracked and dry, and the number of refugees thinned until they were gone entirely.

She stood at the edge of a massive crater, once a waterhole, now bone-dry.

She exhaled softly and reached out her hand.

A clear stream of water trickled from her fingertips into the pit.

The Spiritual Spring within her space was abundant, teeming with small fish and shrimp—perfect for this moment.

Though the river had dried up, the earth would absorb any water she poured, making it impossible to restore the entire flow. But at least, she could hide the water within this pit.

Fat, lively fish swam about, their tails flicking in the crystal-clear water.

Lu Chao Chao took one last look before swiftly returning.

“I found water!”

She ran back to the hill, her voice carrying excitement. The refugees instantly stood up.

“The waterhole is full of fish!” she cried, pointing toward the distance.

Disasters were ruthless, but a soft-hearted god had blessed them with mercy.