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Chapter 447: The Torch of Hope

Children are truly remarkable.

How remarkable?

Those who ask probably haven’t seen just how extraordinary children can be. Their magic lies in their fearlessness.

Ignorance breeds courage, and nowhere is this more evident than in children. They dare to catch all kinds of insects and show them to you.

They do things that adults neither dare nor want to do, like rolling in the mud — which, notably, is mixed with their own waste.

The children of Nagaryll are no different; every orphan in the orphanage is like a little mud ball.

The orphanage director is a woman in her fifties, dressed in faded, worn clothes.

She stands sowhat shyly among the children, facing the foreigners who have just stepped out of their vehicle.

The local police chief had inford her the previous evening that important foreign visitors would co to see the children and donate supplies, so she should prepare.

She had done her best, even wearing clothes she usually wouldn’t dare to, but she still underestimated the situation.

In a blink, those clean children turned into mud-covered little balls again, and she felt frightened.

Before reporters, the public, and caras, Lynch approached the timid director and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to et you, Director.”

The director hesitated, glanced at her hand—which was actually clean to the naked eye—but nervously hid it behind her back, rubbed it hard, then weakly shook Lynch’s hand. “The pleasure is mine, sir.”

Her voice was gentle, though she sotis lost her patience, especially with the most unruly children who exhausted her.

Lynch sensed her unease and quickly withdrew his hand, then looked at his companions and began to speak, “Before coming here, I learned a story that deeply moved .”

The police chief, local officials, Lynch’s sergeant, and mbers of his company all listened attentively.

Reporters furiously took notes. Luckily, Lynch’s pronunciation was clear enough that they could keep up.

The crowd gathered around the gate and even on the walls watched Lynch curiously, eager to hear what this foreigner would say.

“Director has never married because she dedicated herself entirely to caring for these children. That is a great and moving sacrifice, which is why I am here today.”

“In today’s society, whether in the Baylor Federation or the Kingdom of Nagaryll, there are always those who quietly dedicate everything to their community in places unseen.”

“They do not seek recognition or even to move themselves; they see it simply as their duty and responsibility.”

“They are like torches, lighting the darkest corners and bringing warmth into the depths of despair.”

“Their actions remind

of my own insignificance. They are giants of the spirit, while I am but a small man.”

“I cannot match them, but I respect their attitude, their deeds, and their sense of responsibility.”

“I can only help in my own way, and help as many who need it as I can!”

Lynch’s words were not directed at the director or the ruling class around him; he was speaking to the reporters and ordinary people, explaining how he and other foreigners differ.

“I will donate many supplies to the orphanage—daily necessities, food—I hope these will help them.”

Nearby, trucks were unloading slowly, as if the workers feared anyone might miss it.

Boxes after boxes were carried out, and the crowd gasped repeatedly, especially when food and at were revealed. Around the orphanage, you could hear people swallowing hard.

at—many only eat it a few tis a year. If you exclude insects, rats, and wild dogs from at, they might only have at once or twice a year, or three tis at most.

There were also bags of wheat grains and pale flour—items full of temptation.

After demonstrating his generosity for so ti, Lynch’s voice brought the crowd’s attention back.

“Besides this, I will build no fewer than twenty Hope Schools across the province.”

“These schools will offer free education to all children of school age—no fees at all.”

If his earlier donations stirred mild emotions, this statent electrified the crowd.

Reporters were stunned—those in power in Nagaryll were notoriously stingy.

They hoarded society’s wealth but never thought of giving back. They provided no aningful healthcare or education.

Even public facilities they built were used as class dividers, accessible only to the privileged elite.

Free education was never ntioned. If not for school numbers being a performance tric, many officials in backward areas wouldn’t build schools at all.

If Lynch’s words were true, the crowd erupted in cheers.

People shouted to confirm if Lynch was serious, asking when the schools would be built, or if he was just talking.

Knowledge changes fate is never a lie—whether in the Federation or in Nagaryll, though sotis people misunderstand what it truly ans.

At that mont, Lynch suddenly looked down. Others’ gazes followed his movent to his lower body.

A dirty child, about two to four years old, gender indistinguishable, shirtless and wearing clearly patched shorts, stepped on Lynch’s polished leather shoe with his bare, filthy left foot.

Shoes were a luxury for these children. The grimy little foot dirtied Lynch’s shoe.

Even more striking, the child’s dirty hand grabbed hold of Lynch’s pants.

Would he get in trouble?

Watching the rapid changes in the police chief’s expression and the starkly different looks on Lynch’s companions’ faces, everyone silently worried for the child.

Lynch’s hand reached toward the child, and the crowd seed certain he would pick the child up only to harshly throw him away.

This was their perception of foreigners: clean, intolerant of dirty children, quick to lose their temper over small things.

People prayed for the worst not to happen. The director tried to speak but was stopped.

But the frightening scene never ca. Lynch gently patted the child’s head, then crouched down and, to everyone’s surprise, lifted the child into his arms.

He didn’t push him away, didn’t hit or scold him, didn’t tell him to get lost. He simply crouched and held the child.

Calmly, he looked at those who had lost their composure, including the director, and smiled softly. “I haven’t had a chance to say this yet: the reason I na these schools Hope is because they will beco hope—for us, for Nagaryll, for an entire nation.”

“Children will learn advanced knowledge systematically from an early age. They will understand the world more clearly than we do and hold the key to changing their destinies.”

“The change will not be theirs alone; it will extend to their families, their entire nation, and the fate of all people will shift little by little.”

“That is why I call them Hope Schools. They are torches of hope, carrying the fla of this nation’s future.”

Lynch gently stroked the child’s dirt-smudged face. “This is the spark. This is the future.”

His words were thoughtful and moving. The director thanked the heavens for sending soone to save her and the children. Reporters were touched, and almost everyone except Lynch’s companions seed deeply moved.

Yet, even amid this touching mont, soone criticized.

“Mr. Lynch, I notice you’re only donating so cheap supplies. As a wealthy man, don’t you intend to donate money?”

The tone was sharp and mocking. Food and daily necessities are precious and costly to ordinary people, but to the wealthy, these are trivial.

The sergeant stepped forward, ready to have the critic removed, but Lynch stopped him.

Still holding the child, Lynch turned toward the gate and the ordinary people gathered there. Their eyes were on him.

He showed no fear. His gaze was open and steady. “That’s a good question, and I’m happy to answer.”

“In my hotown, there is a saying: Wealth can inspire progress but also cause corruption.”

“Donating money to an orphanage run only by won, without n or security, would be foolish. It could encourage so to take the wrong path.”

“But food and daily necessities won’t.”

“So of you wouldn’t kill over stealing a piece of food, but stealing money might drive so of you to do just that.”

“I’m not stingy with money; I just don’t want people to get hurt or even lose their lives over it.”

A nearby reporter almost couldn’t hold back praise. “You truly are a kind gentleman!”

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