Uncle Zhao stared in astonishment at Mu Lin after he finished speaking. He couldn’t believe his eyes—how could this typical white man with blond hair and blue eyes claim to be Chinese? In his lifetime, though not especially long, he had never heard of white people with blond hair and blue eyes being part of the Chinese race. Could he possibly be dreaming?
To confirm the reality of what he had just seen and heard, the old man pinched his own arm hard. He pinched so hard that he cried out in pain. Now he realized he wasn’t dreaming—the scene before him was real!
This realization left the old man hesitant. He had always believed only what he could see with his own eyes, yet this man standing before him clearly looked like a white man, yet insisted he was also Chinese. Could it be that he, himself, was just getting old? Or was this man hiding some ulterior, unfathomable motive?
Mu Lin and Xiao Laipi saw the hesitation on the old man’s face but didn’t know how to convince him. Although they were in a poor neighborhood, it was still a public place. Facing an elderly man they had only met twice, Mu Lin dared not gamble with the lives and property of his loved ones by trusting the man’s character completely. Although he sensed the old man had a kind and determined heart, could the man truly forgive him—someone who had once caused Chinese people here to suffer persecution? And under the temptation of a large reward and attractive offers, could the old man really maintain his integrity? Mu Lin dared not take that risk lightly.
Previously, while eating at a Chinese restaurant, Mu Lin had overheard someone talking about the restaurant’s chef, who had been using his salary to raise an orphanage alone in a poor neighborhood. Using his mental senses, Mu Lin scanned the back of the restaurant and discovered that the person behind this good deed was actually an old man.
This orphanage mainly took in homeless Chinese orphans from London. At that time, the man had already taken in 46 orphans. Due to financial difficulties, the orphanage had moved into an abandoned building. Although the restaurant owner wanted to help, he himself had many children to raise and could only set up a donation box in his restaurant. Mu Lin had seen only a few small denomination British pounds in that donation box.
Mu Lin knew that in this Western world, if the old man were taking care of white orphans, he would immediately become a media sensation and receive donations from the government and charitable organizations. However, since the orphans were mostly Chinese, due to different social circles and Westerners’ prejudice against Chinese people, it was very difficult for the old man to get help from the local white population.
Overseas Chinese generally had the habit of frugality, usually cooking at home rather than dining out. They only went to restaurants to treat themselves occasionally or when tired of their own cooking. Therefore, the Chinese people who came to eat at the restaurant were mostly struggling to survive at the bottom of society and had no ability to help the old man. As for the Westerners who came to eat, since they couldn’t understand Chinese or read Chinese characters, it was even less likely they could help.
After finishing his meal that day, Mu Lin left some money in the donation box and decided he must personally verify whether the orphanage was really as described. Following the address he had heard at the restaurant, he drove alone to the location.
When he first saw the dilapidated building, Mu Lin couldn’t believe such a place could actually be an orphanage. He briefly scanned it with his mental senses and confirmed there were indeed children inside. When he entered the dark, gloomy rooms, he couldn’t help but tear up at the sight before him.
Since the building was abandoned, the doors and windows no longer existed. For safety reasons, the children lived on the third and fourth floors. In the cold winter, the children mostly stayed in their rooms, allowing Mu Lin to see them clearly when he entered.
Since Mu Lin arrived during lunchtime, the children were eating their midday meal. Several older children, about eleven or twelve years old, were distributing the food. At that moment, each child waited in their room for lunch—just a piece of bread the size of a fist. Obviously not enough to satisfy their hunger, yet no one fought or argued over it. Finally, the children began playing and laughing as they ate their bread and drank water they had somehow found.
Standing in the hallway, Mu Lin watched the children devour their lunch while playfully interacting. He didn’t want to disturb them, so he silently stood aside observing. The bread was clearly old, cold, and hard. Mu Lin knew it must have been cheap, nearly expired bread discarded by bakeries. But for these growing, hungry children, it was like a delicacy.
Watching the children play and eat, Mu Lin couldn’t help but feel heartbroken for their plight. If they continued living like this long-term, it would cause serious malnutrition, adversely affecting both their physical and mental development.
Although the children’s meals were meager, their spirits were surprisingly good. Mu Lin didn’t see any bullying or fighting among them. Instead, they all laughed and chatted happily.
Seeing this, Mu Lin quietly went downstairs, drove to several supermarkets, bought a large amount of food, clothing, bedding, and other supplies, stored them in his ring, and then returned to the orphanage. Inside the orphanage, Mu Lin observed the children’s condition—clearly, the bedding and clothing were insufficient to protect them from the winter cold. Judging from their worn-out appearance, they had clearly been used for a long time.
Mu Lin understood that with only the old man’s salary from the restaurant, providing food for 46 orphans was already an incredible feat. Without help from others around him, it would be impossible for the old man alone to ensure the children were well-fed. Therefore, seeing the children eating nearly expired bread at noon was not at all surprising.
Seeing these children reminded Mu Lin of his own childhood. Back then, living deep in the mountains, he had the skills to find food in the forest. But how could these children, living in this concrete jungle, find food for themselves?
Today was a bit unusual, so this chapter was posted a little late—please bear with me. Another chapter will follow shortly. Also, thank you to the friend “Qiangshouhuo” for creating a group for this book. The group number is 51058931. Readers who enjoy this book are welcome to join. If circumstances permit, I will be available for discussions with everyone from 9 PM to 10 PM every night. Thank you all!
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