Sha Qing

Chapter 121: The Dark Past (1)

He rushed down the porch steps, barefoot.

The building behind him could no longer be called a house- it was burning and steaming, like huge fireworks blooming in the bleak night's darkness.

He ran forward without looking back with his sweaty bangs smeared on his forehead, still wearing his old short-sleeved shorts that served as pajamas. He was in a complete mess like a puppy struggling to get out of a pond. He didn't know the direction, nor did he have a destination. He just ran wildly until he ran headlong into a man who was getting ready to get into his car and got bounced off and fell to the concrete floor.

"Kid, don't you have eyes? Running that fast, you wanna die?!" The man scolded rudely.

"Forget it, he's just a child," said the other man next to him. Compared with his burly companion, this flaxen-haired man with rigid features had a much calmer tone, and even went up to help him up. When the man saw the bruises and scars, both old and new, on his thin, exposed arms, he asked casually out of benevolence, "Injured? Do you need a ride to the hospital?"

He retracted his arm and tried to hide it behind his back, his dark eyes full of caution stared at the other man, "No." Seemingly worried about being chased, he looked back, somewhat flustered, and turned his head to the front again, "Can you give me a pair of shoes?"

The man shifted his eyes to his dirty bare feet, on which some fresh scratches were seeping blood, "I don't have any extra shoes, but I can give you some money to buy them yourself."

He hesitated for a moment, took the bill, and found that he had no pocket on his body, so he had to rub it in his palm. "Thank you," he said in a low voice, seemingly ashamed of the favor but was forced to bow to reality, "I'll pay you back."

The man smiled very slightly, "Okay, if we ever run into each other again."

He nodded and ran away. The big man who was bumped into before grumbled unhappily, "Strange little devil. Was it an attempt to try like a broken bottle scam?"

""

"Don't worry, Phalanx ." said the man with light hair. "You didn't see the bruises from being hit with a stick and belt on his body, plus the cigarette-burn scars. He only looks around 15 years old, poor little guy."

The sturdy Black man called 'Phalanx', shrugged, "What's that saying, "Whoever is pitiful must have some insufferable side". I stabbed a screwdriver into my perverted stepfather's stomach and I was only twelve back then. Cowards deserve to be trampled on."

They got into the car and drove only a few hundred meters when they saw a house, burning almost to rubble, on the side of the road. A pair of middle-aged man and woman who seemed to be the owners of the house were standing at the gate of the courtyard, yelling and cursing loudly.

"...I told you not to adopt him! He's just an ungrateful bastard!" The man snarled at his disheveled wife.

Not willing to be outdone, the woman gave her husband a push, "What's the point of talking about that now!! Why didn't you lock him up?"

Inside the car that slowed down as it drove by, the flaxen-haired man gave a teasing wink to his companion, "Looks like the little guy I just sponsored has a lot of courage, doesn't he?"

The siren of the fire truck came from far away, and looking at the bickering couple against the firelight, Phalanx snorted, "Okay, I admit to having a better impression of him, but he's still a pitiful skinny wretch. I was already twice his size when I was fifteen."