After weighing the pros and cons, the middle-aged man glared unwillingly at the child, "This ti I’ll let you off, but if you dare to steal again, I’ll risk going to prison just to beat you to death first."
The child shrank his neck and hid behind Mo Yan, poking his little head out to say, "A man’s word is his bond, if I say I won’t steal from your house, I definitely won’t."
The middle-aged man glared at him hatefully and stomped away, fuming.
Mo Yan yanked the child out, "Why do you keep stealing stead buns from his house? Don’t you know how easily you could get caught?"
Oh, that sounded wrong. If not stealing from the middle-aged man’s house, does that an it’s okay to steal from soone else’s?
The child clenched his fists tightly, his little face flushed with anger, "That guy is no good, his forr wife died and he brought in a young widow who beats and scolds the children left behind every day. Not only does he not care, but he joins in on the beating too. Scum like him should be taken to be decapitated."
Mo Yan was shocked. The child and his sister were thrown out of their house because of stepmother abuse, and his heart was full of hatred for his stepmother. But the one he should hate the most was his father, otherwise, he wouldn’t repeatedly steal from the middle-aged man’s house, taking out his hatred for his father on the middle-aged man.
With this thought, Mo Yan beca even more determined to bring the child back onto the right path.
"Even so, you shouldn’t steal from his house. People like him will face their karma sooner or later without others having to lift a finger." A father’s lack of kindness leads to a son’s lack of filial respect—if not karma, then what is it?
The child retorted defiantly, "I just can’t stand it, that child gets beaten so badly he can’t get out of bed, and those two don’t even let him eat. Every ti I steal stead buns, I give so to him. He says he hates his dad and stepmother to death, wishes he could set the house on fire and burn them both alive."
By the end, the child’s eyes were red with rage. He too wanted to set a fire—even if it didn’t kill his father and wicked stepmother, he wanted to leave them with nothing.
Mo Yan listened with a pounding heart, silently grateful for having encountered the child, as his psyche might have beco even more twisted in the future.
"Even so, what can you do with your little arms and legs? If it hadn’t been for today, he would have caught you and you’d have faced dire consequences. Even if you don’t think for yourself, you should think of your sister. She’s so young; if sothing happened to you, who would take care of her?"
The child hung his head in silence, clearly thinking of his young sister and agreeing with Mo Yan’s words.
Mo Yan nodded to himself and patted his little head, saying, "If you’re willing, big sister can help you find so work. It might not pay much, but it should be enough to support you and your sister. That way, you won’t have to steal anymore and you won’t have to worry about being caught and beaten."
The child’s eyes brightened, then he hesitated, "Would soone really want ?"
He had tried going to the tavern before, offering to wash dishes without pay, just for so leftover food every day. But they refused, saying he was too young and slow, fearing he would break dishes.
"As long as you’re willing to learn and work hard, soone will want you," Mo Yan consoled. "Tell where you live. Go back and wait for now, and once I’ve found you a job, I’ll co and tell you."
This ti, the child promptly told Mo Yan where he lived.
Mo Yan bought so food and personally escorted him ho, where she also t his tiny, skinny sister, feeling waves of bitterness in her heart. She learned that the boy was seven years old, nad Yun Zhao, and his sister was five, nad Yun Sheng. The nas didn’t seem like those a commoner would
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