Chapter 73

Chapter 73

Ye Mo offered the blanket with both hands. When the other didn't take it, he gave it a slight nudge forward.

At this moment, Ye Mo was fully visible now. He was drenched, rainwater dripping from his hair. The skin exposed through the tears in his clothes was ghostly pale in the darkness.

The youth was taken aback for a moment, staring at Ye Mo. He averted his gaze, took the blanket, and, with an uncharacteristically better attitude, didn't make trouble for him. "Get out."

Ye Mo stood still, not moving. The young man unceremoniously kicked open the door behind Ye Mo, jerked his head, his tone colder than before. "Go."

Ye Mo still didn't move. He glanced at the shut door to the side room—the one the woman had entered. Ye Mo's eyelashes trembled a few times. He wanted to say something but couldn't find the words, and could only whisper in the end, "Mom..."

The young man cut him off. "I said go."

Ye Mo instinctively took half a step back, stood frozen for a few seconds, then finally turned and left. The moment he stepped out of the doorway, the door was slammed shut with a loud bang.

He instinctively looked back at the closed door, stained with what looked like either blood or paint.

The young man kicked the door shut and returned to the group. As he walked, he complained, "Seriously, the old woman's lost it again. I thought she'd already scoured the whole block and would calm down. But as soon as she sees a new face, she drags them back."

"Who knows where she picked up this little young master from? He looks even prettier than Katia, and there's not a single callus on his hands."

Katia, sitting on the windowsill, shot the youth a look. The young man immediately raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Katia sat up on the windowsill, his boots knocking against the wall with a thud. He raised an eyebrow in disgust. "Don't call my name."

The young man made a zipping motion across his lips, indicating he'd keep his mouth shut. Katia hated people calling his name; he thought it sounded like a girl's name.

The young man sat back down, still quite preoccupied with Ye Mo.

"Don't know if he escaped from West Street. He won't have an easy time of it here."

Everyone could tell Ye Mo had been raised with great care and affection. Although the exposed skin was a bit dirty, it was pale and smooth, without a single scar.

Even the strongest among them, Katia, was covered in scars. And his clothes, though heavily damaged and barely recognizable, were clearly made of good material originally.

Then there was his demeanor, that utterly alien vibe. He seemed far too docile, completely out of place here.

The man sitting on the chair in the center gave a humorless laugh. "Maybe he's like me."

The young man fell silent. They all knew that before Chris was exiled here, he too had lived a stable, happy life outside.

Chris himself didn't seem bothered. From inside the room came the woman's cries and screams. She was hysterically shouting, "I want my child! I want my Little Qing!"

Chris turned his head to the young man. "Go check on your mom, Ji Ting."

Ji Ting nodded and stood up.

Outside the door, Ye Mo heard muffled screams. He listened at the door, only relaxing when the sounds faded away.

He stood up, looking around blankly. The hallway was narrow, dark, and without lights.

It was a bit cold. Ye Mo shifted into a corner, ducking the draft that swept down the hallway.

After a while, the door opened again. Katia walked out, having pulled his hood up, covering his platinum-blond hair.

As he closed the door, he glanced at Ye Mo in the corner. Then he pulled a nutrient pack from his pocket and tossed it to Ye Mo standing there. "Get out of here when you're ready."

Ye Mo instinctively caught it.

Katia turned, his right foot already on the first step down, but he paused. He tilted his head slightly. "The west side is the red-light district. Don't go there unless you want to die a miserable death."

Then he went down the stairs.

Ye Mo looked down at the small bottle in his hand, hesitated for a moment, then clenched it in his palm, not moving.

People went up and down the stairs. They passed by Ye Mo, all carefully and warily giving him a wide berth. Most were minors, or fathers or mothers with children. Among them was an adult man in a jacket. He saw the nutrient pack in Ye Mo's hand, paused at the stairwell, took one last look at the mottled door beside Ye Mo, then left regretfully.

Finally, a mother passed by, holding a little girl's hand. The little girl hadn't yet learned to hide her curiosity. She was staring at Ye Mo until her mother pulled her behind her. The mother was so nervous that a small glass ball the little girl was holding fell and rolled to Ye Mo's feet.

The little girl gasped and instinctively started to walk towards Ye Mo.

Ye Mo bent down, about to pick it up and return it to her, when he saw the mother yank the little girl back hard, almost dragging the little girl upstairs. She whispered to comfort her, "Be good, we don't want it anymore..."

Ye Mo's bending motion froze. He straightened up again, lowered his head, and distanced himself from them, practically hugging the wall as he went down the narrow hallway.

Just as he was about to turn the corner, Ye Mo caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye of the little girl bending down to pick up her glass ball.

It was still drizzling downstairs, and very quiet.

Ye Mo looked back and, among the countless lit windows, accurately picked out the window of "Mom's" home.

He still remembered the feeling of "Mom's" hand touching his cheek earlier—a bit rough but very warm.

Ye Mo had a vague feeling that someone had once caressed his cheek like that too, from the side of his face to the back of his neck, then pressed a light kiss on his forehead.

The rain continued. Ye Mo walked through the long passageway and emerged onto the street outside.

It was bustling outside. It was already night, and many shops were still open along the roadside. Most of their signs were faded, lit with garish, flashy lights. The storefronts were also dilapidated.

Between the dense high-rises, groups of teenagers zoomed past on flying skateboards.

Ye Mo stood by the roadside, looking at this strange and bizarre world.

Suddenly, the crowd stopped. They moved to both sides, automatically clearing the middle of the road.

Over a dozen people in uniforms, carrying guns, were escorting a group in the middle, marching them from here towards the more prosperous urban district.

There were also people riding flying motorcycles in mid-air, all fully armed.

"They're here again. Haven't they filled the conscription quota yet? The previous Insect Tide wasn't like this."

"I heard something went wrong on the front lines during this Insect Tide. Something about insufficient King Insect numbers or something. The Zerg keep appearing in the rear. The District Head has been very worried."

"Grath is on the front lines. How could there be a mistake? I think they're just using it as an excuse to get more forced labor. The barber shop owner's son next door to me, with a B-level psychic power, got taken. Such a good kid, ranked pretty high in last year's StarNet simulated battlefield league, almost qualified for emigration. And now he hasn't come back."

As the escort team drew closer, the conversations gradually died down.

The crowd fell silent.

Ye Mo stood at the back of the crowd, looking at them blankly, softly repeating, "Grath."

After these people passed, the crowd started moving again.

Ye Mo soon had no time for idle thoughts. Someone was following him. Ye Mo glanced behind him, blended into the crowd, and quickly disappeared.

The few people following him circled the spot where Ye Mo was last seen several times. Finally, the leader cursed, gathered the others, and left. As they walked, he said, "You saw him too. Get others to help look. His looks are definitely top-notch. With some luck, he might even make it to an auction."

As the night wore on, fewer and fewer people were on the streets. Many of the gaudy lights went out. Only then did Ye Mo's wandering figure become conspicuous on the street.

He didn't know where to go, so after wandering around, he eventually returned to the vicinity of "Mom's" home. Ye Mo glanced at the building from a distance, looking past the other buildings, then chose a narrow alley and sat down next to a dumpster. There was no wind here.

A cat darted out from the depths of the alley, swiftly passing by. Ye Mo pulled his feet back.

By daybreak, Ye Mo wandered nearby again and once more saw "Mom."

She stood at the entrance of the passageway, holding food and a blanket, looking around.

The woman was overjoyed to see him. She ran over, thrust everything in her hands into Ye Mo's arms, and began touching his head and face. Ye Mo lowered his head, making it easier for her to examine him.

"Mom is so worried about you. Your brother's not right in the head, talking crazy, saying you were dead. But my Little Qing is right here!"

As she spoke, she began to cry again. "It's your brother who's cruel-hearted, not letting Little Qing come home. How are you, Little Qing? You didn't freeze, did you?"

Her hands were rough, thick with calluses, and it hurt a little, but Ye Mo didn't pull away. He stumbled over his words, "No... didn't freeze."

He paused, then added softly, "Mom."

The woman hugged Ye Mo, babbling on for a while, then pulled him aside, going on with her illogical, jumpy talk. At first, Ye Mo was awkward and hesitant, but gradually, he managed to utter a few simple words and sentences.

Night came, and she still held onto Ye Mo.

From a distance, Ye Mo spotted the man he'd seen yesterday. Their eyes met briefly, and Ye Mo quickly averted his gaze, nervous. He wanted to explain that he needed to leave, but the woman continued to grip him tightly.

Fortunately, the man didn't chase Ye Mo off. Instead, he smiled gently at him before turning to speak to the woman, "Auntie Ji, it's time for us to go home."

The woman pulled on Ye Mo's arm, turning to speak to him, "Little Qing, let's go home. Chris, we're taking Little Qing home."

Chris shook his head, coaxing Auntie Ji in a low voice, "Little Qing still wants to play outside for a while."

Auntie Ji looked at Ye Mo, and only after he nodded did she reluctantly release his hand.

Ye Mo stood in place, watching them walk toward the passageway. At the entrance stood Ji Ting and several others—he didn't know when they'd gotten there.

A young man supported Auntie Ji, leading her away first.

Ji Ting glanced in Ye Mo's direction. Ye Mo was still standing in the corner, watching them. When Ji Ting looked over, Ye Mo lowered his head, turned, and melted into the crowd and left. Ji Ting felt a vague discomfort.

He followed behind Chris, who glanced at him. "Let him stay for a while. That child must have just arrived here not long ago. This place is safer than most others, at least."

Ye Mo probably didn't realize it, but this was their territory. The usual crowd was familiar, so any outsider stood out immediately. His lingering in the area had been noticed long ago.

Ji Ting irritably ran a hand through his hair, feeling a sense of relief as he went along with Chris's suggestion. "Fine, let him stay for now."

Chris chuckled softly.

Ji Ting muttered in his own defense, "Looking at him like that, even if he had ill intentions, he probably couldn't accomplish much anyway."