Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 644 The Apocalyptic Old Lady 13

A few stingy rays of gray light seeped through the gaps in the corrugated iron sheet of the dilapidated warehouse, announcing the arrival of a dull daytime after the rain had stopped.

The air was thick with the smell of mud, rust, and some indescribable stench of decay. The traces of last night's rain were still there, and the ground was even muddier. Only the crushing punishment that had taken place in the dark corner seemed to be diluted by the murky light.

Only scattered mud spots and distorted marks remained on the fallen empty cans and crushed packaging bags.

Yun Chu's figure appeared in the corner of her temporary dwelling, which was filled with clutter.

She was slowly wiping a small metal can with a relatively clean cloth, her movements soothing, almost as if time had stood still.

The old coat was stained with dried mud, and silver-gray hair was casually scattered around his cheeks. The lines of his profile were etched with deep grooves in the dim light. His eyes seemed to be focused on the patterns on the jar, or perhaps they pierced through the cold iron sheet and looked towards a more distant place.

Just then, two shadows staggered and blocked the already scarce light.

Yun Chu paused slightly while wiping, but did not look up.

Without even looking, she knew who had come—the faint, trembling breath in the air, mixed with the bewilderment born of despair and the fear of a desperate gamble, was all too clear.

Jiang Xingyu and Lin Xiaoran were standing on the cement ground a few steps away from her.

Daylight broke, but it failed to dispel the darkness in their eyes.

Their clothes were still tattered and dirty, the soaked fabric clinging stiffly to their bodies, wrinkling and revealing cold lines.

On Jiang Xingyu's handsome face, the swollen and dark bruise from his left cheekbone to his jaw was shocking. Dark red scabs of blood had formed on the crack at the corner of his mouth, which made his face look even more ashen.

Those eyes that once shone on the stage are now empty and swollen, tear tracks have carved two furrows into her dirty face, and lingering dirt is embedded in her messy hair.

Lin Xiaoran was in even worse condition. Her pale and thin body was wrapped in the shirt that had been torn open the night before. Her stiff fingers were tightly gripping the collar. On the small section of her neck and collarbone that was exposed, there were several bluish-purple finger marks and a light red scar that looked like it had been scorched by a spark.

Her thin shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and her teeth bit her lower lip until it was bloodless, almost drawing blood.

Without any warning, and as if they had used up the last bit of dignity and strength in their bodies, the two of them slammed their knees onto the cold, oil- and mud-stained cement floor with a "thud".

The sound seemed particularly heavy in the empty corner of the warehouse.

"Please...please..." Jiang Xingyu's voice was hoarse and broken, as if it had been sanded, with a heavy nasal tone and a trembling voice full of fear. His head was buried deep, and his shoulders were curled up. "Please...please take us in..."

“We…we’re willing to do anything…” Lin Xiaoran’s voice was even lower, like a withered leaf shattering in the wind, hurriedly adding, each word carrying immense humiliation and desperate desperation, “Cooking…washing clothes…cleaning…we’re very hardworking…really!…we…we eat very little…we won’t cause any more trouble…please…”

Her voice was choked with sobs, yet she suppressed her emotions, her shoulders trembling even more violently, as if she would completely collapse at any moment. Her forehead almost touched the cold, muddy ground.

Yun Chu slowly shifted her gaze from the metal can in her hand.

The murky gaze swept over the two men's mud-splattered trouser legs and trembling shoulders, past Lin Xiaoran's tightly clenched collar, her knuckles white, and finally settled on Jiang Xingyu's forehead, which was soaked with cold sweat.

Even in such a disheveled state, with her face covered in bruises, the outline of her face and the shape of her eyebrows and eyes could still vaguely reveal the stunning beauty that had been pursued and meticulously sculpted by countless fans.

Even though Lin Xiaoran was pale and haggard like a candle in the wind, the lively and fragile qualities that belong to a young actress were highlighted against the backdrop of despair, revealing a breathtaking and tragic beauty.

In that instant, a thought, like a strange spark flashing in the cold darkness, suddenly splashed in Yun Chu's long-dormant heart, and then spread silently.

This world... is now utter dregs and wasteland. Ruins, stench, greed and brutality are laid bare.

She found the mission of "going to see the world" rather boring, because in this post-apocalyptic world, there really wasn't much beautiful scenery left.

The two faces before me—though scarred and filthy—possessed a bright outline that pierced through the boundless gloom. Their pure and fragile beauty was like a flower stamen stubbornly blooming in the mud.

On this ruin where everyone's face is blurred, filled with numbness, ferocity, and hunger, this kind of 'beauty' is itself an almost luxurious and incongruous alien existence.

Having such beautiful children by my side, watching their vibrant lives accompany me through this long and dreary journey to the end of the world... doesn't seem so bad?

At least, when walking on this land of despair, what you see is no longer just a monotonous grayness and grotesqueness.

Seeing something so bright and crisp, so 'beautiful'... does it actually make me feel a little lighter?

Even if it's just a fleeting moment of brightness, even if it's as brief as morning dew.

The idea was pure, simple, and even carried a touch of untimely, cold mockery.

It has nothing to do with responsibility or compassion; it's more like the sudden, purely aesthetic desire to collect a gemstone fragment that, though covered in mud, still reflects light when someone who has been trekking through the desert for too long inadvertently sees it.

Then, after a brief, suffocating silence, Yun Chu's hoarse, aged voice rang out in an almost flat tone, as if stating a given fact:

"Aren't your knees cold? Get up." She casually placed the gleaming metal can on a pile of clutter at her feet. "There aren't many rules with me, but remember—"

“Survival is your own business. Be quick and efficient. You'll have to swallow the trouble you cause. Can’t you handle it?” She raised her eyes, her gaze sweeping calmly over the still-youthful face of Jiang Xingyu and the deep-seated fear in his bones. “I will handle it myself. But you can’t afford the price.”

These words were as cold as frost, but to the two who felt as if they had been granted a pardon, they were like heavenly music.

They were almost paralyzed on the ground, frantically trying to get up, their faces a mixture of disbelief and ecstasy, lingering tears, and immense bewilderment at surviving such a catastrophe.

Lin Xiaoran covered her mouth and sobbed in suppressed sobs, but for the first time after a long period of despair, her eyes caught a glimmer of light.

Jiang Xingyu struggled to his feet, wanting to help Lin Xiaoran, but his gaze involuntarily lingered on the old woman who had picked up a tattered cloth again, seemingly intending to continue wiping a rusty iron box beside her.

In the dim light of the warehouse, her silhouette was no longer the cold, death-like figure of the previous night, but had become a solitary peak that could briefly shelter them from the wind and snow, exuding a kind of awe-inspiring yet incredibly reassuring aura.