Chapter 51: Just a Passing Stranger in Life

Chapter 51 – Just a Passing Stranger in Life

When Ji An carried the child inside, Zhou Qin had just struggled to his feet with the help of his crutch. Seeing the child’s pitiful condition, his expression immediately turned grim. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. A skinny man brought him here, saying he felt sorry for him. But my instincts tell me there’s more going on—this child’s suffering is probably connected to that man,” Ji An said as he carried the child into the outermost isolation room.

This room was specifically set up for new arrivals, mainly to prevent lice or other contagious illnesses from spreading to the other children at the orphanage.

Ji An laid the child down and quickly retrieved a children’s nutrition drink from his space, trying to feed it to the boy.

The child’s eyes were tightly shut, and his teeth clenched so hard that no food could get through. Ji An had to skillfully pry open the child’s mouth and force-feed the drink.

He also considered giving the child some Magic Spring Water, but with everyone watching, that wasn’t possible.

The effects of the Magic Spring Water were too strong—just a drop could rapidly heal the child’s bruises and wounds, which would definitely draw suspicion.

Since Zhou Qin had already called a healer superpowered, they would wait for their arrival first. If the child’s life was truly in danger, Ji An would find a way to secretly use the Magic Spring Water later. For now, he had to stay hidden.

A few minutes after the drink was given, the child’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, his eyes moving under his eyelids before slowly opening—the child woke up.

Ji An let out a breath of relief. “Good, the child’s awake.”

Yuan Mingan leaned closer and gently asked, “Are you okay? Do you feel any pain?”

The child didn’t respond, as if he couldn’t hear. His eyes remained wide open, blank and lifeless. Though many people surrounded him in the room, he seemed to see nothing. His gaze drifted past them all, staring blankly into space without focus.

Yuan Mingan looked at Ji An, Ji An looked at Zhou Qin, and Zhou Qin looked back at Yuan Mingan. The three exchanged uneasy glances.

Ji An bent down and waved a hand in front of the child’s face. The child’s pupils didn’t move, nor did he blink—as if he were completely blind.

Ji An’s tone hardened. “Can you hear me?”

Still, the child gave no response.

The atmosphere turned grim. Little Stone, who had already finished bathing, knew this room was used to isolate new children to prevent the spread of illness, so he stayed outside by the door.

“She shouldn’t be blind or deaf. I’ve heard her speak before,” Little Stone said.

“When? Where?” Ji An asked.

“I’ve seen her in many places,” Little Stone replied. “We used to scrounge for food everywhere. Food’s hard to come by these days—staying put never worked. We moved around a lot, sometimes changing spots several times a day.”

Little Stone was a strong child. Talking about the past didn’t make him cry—it only made him appreciate his current life more.

“We often saw her, and she kept moving too. I’ve heard her ask passersby for help,” he added after a pause. “She was really pitiful—she couldn’t walk and had broken hands. The other kids with her were in similar states, all in awful shape.”

His voice filled with sympathy. “A thin male superpowered watched over them. If they didn’t get anything, he’d beat them.”

In the apocalypse, everyone was barely surviving themselves. Few had extra compassion to spare. Those people must have known this, yet still resorted to violence.

“Sometimes, passersby couldn’t bear it and gave them something to eat. But instead of helping, it made things worse—the superpowered would deliberately beat them in public when crowds gathered.”

“Animals!” Yuan Mingan, likely thinking of her missing daughter, broke down crying and rushed forward to hug the child tightly.

Little Stone continued, “Once, they went after me and Little Rose. Luckily, we were quick and got away. But maybe they weren’t even that serious about catching us—otherwise, kids like us wouldn’t have escaped a superpowered’s grasp.”

“At that time, even the most pitiful children hardly got anything. So that superpowered probably didn’t care much whether he caught us or not—that’s how we managed to escape.”

Ji An looked at Little Stone—healthy, lively, full of energy—and then at the emaciated, limbless child before him, barely clinging to life. He couldn’t bear to imagine what would have happened if Little Stone hadn’t been so clever and had fallen into those traffickers’ hands. Thinking about what they might have done made Ji An’s heart twist painfully, making his blood run cold.

"There was a very thin superpowered individual guarding them. Was that person about this tall, with small but bulging eyes?" Ji An described the appearance of the man he had seen at the door.

"It's him," Little Stone nodded.

Ji An turned to Zhou Qin and said, "He was the one who brought this child here just now. From what Little Stone said, they likely have many more children like this little girl in their custody. They're probably a group of traffickers who deliberately disfigure children to make them look pitiful, manipulating people's sympathy for profit."

Zhou Qin's hands clenched the head of his cane so tightly that, in a moment of uncontrolled rage, he accidentally snapped it in two. He staggered, nearly toppling over, but Ji An reacted quickly and caught him.

Zhou Qin’s expression darkened even further—both at the inhumanity of the traffickers and at his own current state of helplessness.

Noticing the tension in the room, Little Stone quietly pulled Little Rose, who had just finished bathing, away.

"I remember that trafficker’s face. I’ll draw his likeness now, and then we can leave the rest to Commander Zhou." At first, Ji An had thought to ask Gu Jinsheng, but now he wanted to entrust this matter to Zhou Qin. He believed Zhou Qin would give it his all, and it might also distract him from dwelling too much on his legs.

"Alright," Zhou Qin agreed immediately.

The orphanage had paper and pencils, bought by Ji An himself. He skipped the fancy crayons—just a simple pencil would do.

Little Stone and Little Rose, seeing him draw, crowded around, fascinated. With just a few strokes, Ji An sketched out a human figure. A few more lines, and the man’s facial features were clearly taking shape, already recognizable.

Having never seen anyone draw before, the children were spellbound. Their little mouths hung open in awe, but they covered them with their hands, careful not to make any noise that might disturb Ji An.

Ji An worked meticulously, mentally comparing it to the image burned in his memory. His brain, sharpened by his awakened psychic powers, was like a scanner—capable of precisely recalling everything he had seen.

Half an hour later, the portrait on the paper was uncannily accurate. Anyone who saw it would instantly recognize the man, whether they knew him or not.

Little Stone and Little Rose, hands still covering their mouths, stared wide-eyed in amazement. "Ji An-ge, your drawing looks exactly like that man!"

Little Rose said admiringly, "Ji An-ge, will you teach me? I really want to learn too—it’s so amazing!"

"I can, but I’m swamped with an important project right now and might not have time. I’ll hire a drawing teacher for you," Ji An replied. He was currently conducting a crucial experiment on tissue regeneration.

Little Rose, always thoughtful, said, "Then I won’t learn. Ji An-ge, don’t spend money on us."

Her innocent words lifted Ji An’s spirits. "It’s fine. Money’s no issue—this is pocket change. If you want to learn, Little Rose, study hard. I’ll wait for the day you can draw my portrait."

"Okay! I’ll study really hard!" Little Rose balled her little fists with resolve.

Little Stone quickly piped up, "Me too! I want to learn too!"

"Alright. When the time comes, I’ll have a big family portrait drawn—one with all the children in the orphanage and Mother Yuan, our director."

"Deal!" Ji An held out his pinky. "Pinky promise?"

"Mm!" Little Rose hooked her finger with his, pinky-swearing with all seriousness.

Zhou Qin took the sketch and was just as impressed. "I remember you were... How do you have so many talents? Languages are impressive enough, but you can even draw?"

He deliberately avoided mentioning the word "orphan."

Ji An smiled. "It’s fine. That’s all in the past, and it’s part of who I am."

Turning to Little Stone and Little Rose, he said, "Actually, I’m an orphan too—just like you. I wasn’t separated from my family by accident. I was abandoned at the orphanage gates right after I was born. I grew up there."

"What? Ji An-ge, you were an orphan too?" Little Stone couldn’t believe it. "But you’re so amazing! How could your parents not want you? If I were your parents, I’d brag about having such an incredible son everywhere!"

Ji An gave their heads a fond ruffle. "But no one is born amazing. When I came into this world, I was just a crying baby like anyone else. Though I suppose if my parents knew the man I became, they’d probably regret abandoning me."

The dimensional storage item and nutrient gel—just these two things alone could either revive or destroy a base. If Ji An’s parents had possessed foresight before abandoning him, not even death would have made them leave him behind.

Xiao Shitou immediately said, “Big Bro Ji An, I’ll study hard from now on so I can become as outstanding as you!”

“Good, I’ll be waiting.”

Ji An continued the earlier conversation: “Times were tough back then, but there were still many sweet moments. I wanted to preserve those hard-earned memories, but I couldn’t get a camera. For me at the time, a camera was a luxury I could never afford. The only things I had access to were paper and pen. So I started trying to draw. Turns out I had some talent—I just read the simple drawing books in the orphanage, and I was already able to draw quite well.

Later, when I could earn money myself, I studied painting formally.”

Ji An was far more accomplished than Zhou Qin had imagined. Perhaps every genius grows through pain, but pain doesn’t break them—it shapes them into something even brighter!

Zhou Qin didn’t ask further. He didn’t want to dig up Ji An’s buried past.

Just then, Yuan Mingan walked out with a towel in hand, her eyes and nose red.

“She’s a girl. I cleaned her up and tried to give her some water, but she refused to cooperate completely.”

“It’s fine. She’s already taken the nutrient gel—she’ll be okay,” Ji An reassured her.

“Later I’ll teach you how to administer the nutrients. There’s a trick to it. When I’m not around, just follow what I’ve shown you.” Ji An added, “This child likely has serious psychological issues. It won’t be fixed overnight. For now, keep feeding her this way, and we’ll deal with the rest later.”

“Alright,” Yuan Mingan agreed.

Ji An showed Yuan Mingan how to feed the child water. At first, Yuan Mingan struggled with the technique, getting water all over the child multiple times without success. The little girl neither resisted nor moved, as if they weren’t touching her at all.

Eventually, after several failed attempts, Yuan Mingan finally figured it out. Around that time, Fang Rurong arrived.

Ji An greeted her: “Miss Fang, how’s your recovery going?”

Zhou Qin had been keeping tabs on Fang Rurong lately, so he already knew her condition and didn’t ask again.

Zhou Qin hadn’t called Fang Rurong over to heal someone directly. As the leader of the base’s healing-type espers, all healer assignments were her responsibility, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to bypass her and contact someone else directly.

“Doing alright,” Fang Rurong replied.

In truth, she still needed time to recover. Pushing her superpower too far during an advanced-level healing had drained her badly, and full recovery wouldn’t come easily.

After a brief exchange of greetings, Fang Rurong examined the girl's injuries.

Even though Zhou Qin had already described them, seeing the wounds firsthand still shocked and sickened her.

Fang Rurong said, “I can heal all these external wounds and fix the deformities in her wrists and ankles, but I can’t do anything about the missing leg.”

Healing-type espers aren’t limitless in their abilities—they can’t heal everything below their level.

She explained, “This child’s leg looks like it was sliced off by a supernatural force—probably done using an ability. Otherwise, the cut wouldn’t be so clean. If even a piece of the lower leg bone remained—even just bare bone without flesh—I could use my power to reattach it and help regenerate new muscle and skin.

But in this case, the entire lower leg bone is gone. To regrow it entirely from scratch? That’s beyond me.”

Even if the girl’s bones were shattered into powder, Fang Rurong could instantly repair them.

If her flesh had been hacked to pieces, she could restore it to its original state within seconds.

Even if internal organs were pierced or sliced down to the size of a fingernail, she could make them whole again in moments.

Even if the heart were pierced, as long as the person was still breathing, Fang Rurong could save them—kidneys, liver, and all other internal organs posed no problem.

But if, for example, one kidney had been removed and only one remained, asking her to grow a new one—that, she couldn’t do.

Even organs like the gallbladder, which don’t have a major impact when removed, cannot regenerate once taken out.

In other words, what Fang Rurong can do is promote the healing or growth of existing cells and tissues—regeneration is beyond her capability.

Some might argue that since half the leg bone remains, it doesn't count as regeneration. At most, it's enhanced healing.

But that’s not the case. Leaving other bones aside, the leg bone alone consists of the femur and tibia—two separate bones connected by flesh and fascia. Strictly speaking, they’re two independent bones. So if only the femur remains and the tibia is missing, growing it back would qualify as regeneration.

However, if half the tibia is preserved, a healer with a higher level than Zhou Qin could help restore it to its complete state.

But Fang Rurong can’t do this—her ability is nowhere near Zhou Qin’s level.

“Legend says seventh-level healers can raise the dead and restore flesh and bone—even regrow organs and bones,” Fang Rurong said. “I’ve never met one; I’ve only heard the tales.”

“I understand,” Ji An replied. “Miss Fang, could you ask if any of your team’s healers has time? I’d like to hire someone privately to treat this child’s injuries. We can discuss payment.”

Ji An didn’t ask Fang Rurong directly for two reasons. First, she was still recovering from her own injuries, and he feared further use of her healing ability might worsen her condition.

Second, while healers are dispatched by the base to treat injuries, free treatment is only for those wounded in service to the base.

For someone like this little girl—even if she were at death’s door—a healer has no obligation to help. Privately requesting treatment requires paying a hefty fee, and even then, not everyone with deep pockets can secure their services.

Fang Rurong’s visit was just a personal favor for Zhou Qin.

“These injuries are minor. I can handle them,” Fang Rurong said.

“But your last healing session drained you so much…” Ji An worried.

“It’s fine. She’s just an ordinary person—surface wounds don’t take much out of me. If it were a superpowered individual, even a Level 1, I wouldn’t be able to help.” As she spoke, she began treating the girl.

Within minutes, the girl’s injuries were completely gone—including her misshapen wrists and ankles.

“Thank you,” Ji An said, pulling out a blue-jade necklace from his spatial storage device. “This is a spatial storage device with 100 cubic meters of space. Please take it as a thank-you.”

Fang Rurong waved her hands hastily. “I can’t possibly accept this! Such a small injury would cost only a few hundred credits if treated by another healer. This is way too much.”

“The problem is, even if it only costs a few hundred credits, finding a healer is next to impossible—no matter what you offer,” Ji An countered.

Indeed, healers aren’t easily hired unless someone like Ji An or Zhou Qin makes the request.

Fang Rurong knew this well and understood Ji An’s politeness.

“Still, I can’t accept it. Spatial storage devices are far too valuable.” While healers are hard to come by, spatial storage devices are equally rare and expensive.

A 100-cubic-meter spatial storage device costs over ten million credits—even more on the black market. The value simply didn’t match the minor favor she’d done.

Ji An insisted, “I may need your help privately in the future. Consider this a prepayment for that assistance.”

Zhou Qin added, “Boss Ji has no shortage of spatial storage devices—he can lose or break one without batting an eye. Just take it. If you feel guilty, just help him out next time he asks.”

Secretly, Fang Rurong wanted it—who’d say no? Plus, Ji An was clearly a powerful figure, close to Gu Jinsheng, and with Zhou Qin backing him up. She finally accepted.

“Then I’ll take it without guilt. In the future, if Boss Ji needs anything, I’ll go all out,” she promised.

“Good.” Ji An didn’t refuse. His extravagant gift wasn’t just about the girl’s injuries—it was a move to win her over.

Fang Rurong was walking on air as she left with the spatial storage device, never having dreamed that this trip would bring such an unexpected delight. She was absolutely elated.

After healing the little girl, Zhou Qin and Ji An took their leave.

On the way, Zhou Qin said to Ji An, "Coming to the orphanage really got to me. Before, I always felt like life had dealt me the worst hand, like I’d been abandoned by the whole world. But now I realize that fate has actually been on my side."

Ji An sighed, "Stay in an orphanage long enough, and you either end up thinking the world’s too unfair, too dark—that life’s not worth living, you know? Or you start to see that there’s still hope in the world, that people worse off than you are still fighting to survive. So why should you keep moping around? Congrats—you’re the second kind."

Zhou Qin asked, "What about you then? You don’t seem to fit either of those."

Ji An smiled, "No, when I was really young, I was the first kind—I didn’t want to live anymore. I thought life was pointless."

"But later, I became neither. Because someone once described his vision of a glorious future to me. And I wanted that future—the one he talked about!"

Zhou Qin grew curious, "Who was it? The one who told you about this glorious future? I’d really love to know who changed you so completely, who made you into someone almost too good to be true!"

Ji An was quiet for a long time. Just as Zhou Qin thought he wouldn’t answer, Ji An suddenly said, "Just someone who passed through my life."