Chapter Seventeen Ye Mei (Three)

  Every city has some of the freest people, they may not have work ability, may not be highly intelligent, may not have friends or relatives, even physically disabled, even homeless, can only rely on people's sympathy to survive, but it cannot be denied that they are the freest people.

  This is a tattered and worn-out set of clothes with three defects, two pants without knees, two different shoes, hair on his head is stiff, skin color has turned dark brown due to not washing for too long, years have left too many marks on his face, the stench emanating from his body makes people want to retreat even when approaching him, people call such a person a vagrant, and he is an elderly vagrant.

  The old man was awakened by hunger, he didn't see the cat that ran away, he picked up a pile of snow from the ground and rubbed it on his face, occasionally taking some snow into his mouth and spitting out warm water after a while.

  The old man finished washing up, and it was time to find something to eat. He chose this place as a temporary residence, not only because it could block the snow, but also for another reason - there was a trash can here. Beggars had several sources of food: some small restaurants' back doors (although larger ones would have security guards chasing them away); and sometimes, a few small beggars would snatch a few items from the display racks outside bakeries when the owners weren't paying attention, before being caught and running away quickly. Another option was to eat what people had left behind - rotten food that was at least somewhat fresh and safe, with the worst outcome being stomach pain after eating it, but not death. The old beggar remembered a fellow beggar who had died just a few days ago in a vegetable market, vomiting white foam after eating something unknown.

  The old man didn't find anything edible in this dumpster, and set off towards the next target. As a seasoned beggar, he had to remember every food storage point, even if there wasn't always food inside every day.

  Sometimes the old man would think that he should be a vagrant, not a beggar, because he didn't rely on begging to sustain his life, but rather relied on his own efforts to make a living. This was much more glorious than the beggars' idleness. Every time the old man thought of this, he couldn't help but smile silently, and a good mood would follow.

  As the old man continued to search, he finally found a few greasy oil cakes in a trash can in an alley. Just as the old man picked up his spoils of war like a victor, the garbage heap next to him startled him.

  The old man's first reaction was to pick up the food in his hand and back away, he saw that the source of the sound was a person with the same profession as him, but this person was shriveled up in the corner, blending in with the surrounding trash. It was a child, a little vagrant.

  The child looked at the old man with trepidation, as if he would bully him in the next second. The old man was also staring at him, afraid that he would snatch his food away. The two of them eyed each other warily.

  The old man didn't leave, nor did he try to take over the child's territory. Instead, he sat down beside the child. Perhaps he saw how frail and thin the child was, with no intact clothes on his body, relying only on the surrounding trash for warmth. Or perhaps the old man saw in the child's eyes not just fear, but also a deep despair, which he had seen before in the eyes of a fellow beggar who couldn't move at all, and never saw again.

  Perhaps out of pity, sympathy, or a sense of shared suffering, or maybe just a glimmer of kindness in the old man's heart, he handed the oil cake to the little boy.

  Maybe she was too hungry, the little girl gazed longingly at the old man's hand holding the oil cake, stretching out her equally dirty fingers that were almost black. It was a little girl.

  In this vast white world, icy breaths ravaged people, a dirty trash heap, two equally dirty hands, perhaps not their original color, touched together. At this moment, we don't know what colors are in the old man's and little girl's hearts, but they will definitely break through that layer of black outerwear and reveal themselves. This scene was unseen by anyone, only the falling snow seemed to have grown heavier.

  The old man saw the little girl eating the oil cake, possibly because of the first feeling of being doted on, and the smile on his face became even bigger.

  Such a young child, yet so miserable just like me.

  "Doll, you and I are the same, don't we have a home to return to?"

  The little girl ignored the old man and concentrated on eating her doughnut.

  "I didn't think I, old Hú, could help someone out either. Kid, what's your name?"

  The little girl looked at the old man's oil cake in his hand, she had already eaten hers.

  "Let's be together from now on, you and me."

  The little girl took over the oil cake given by the old man without any other reaction.

  …………

  Three days later, Old Hu took the little girl wandering in this city, fighting for survival rights from fellow travelers. The little girl said she had no name, and Old Hu called her Ya Tou.

  After five days, Ya Tou's vigilance had decreased a lot, and she wouldn't be too guarded when interacting with Hu Lao Tou. The snow really got bigger.

  Ten days have passed and Old Hu's condition is getting worse. He gives the food he finds to his granddaughter first, then eats himself. The snow is thicker than before.

  Half a month later, Old Hu fell ill. He didn't die, he just got sick. In a daze, Old Hu said: "Child, it's nothing, it will all pass." They kept muttering that everything was fine, their way of fighting the illness was simple - relying on their bodies to pull through.

  On the sixteenth day, Ya Tou couldn't find any food. The food she found outside was snatched away by other vagrants because they bullied her. Hu Lao's muttering could no longer be heard.

  On the eighteenth day, Ya Tou brought a bowl of steaming hot porridge for Hu Lao to eat. Hu Lao was still drowsy and asleep, but after drinking the hot porridge, he felt slightly better. Ya Tou comforted herself that way, and the disposable plastic porridge box in her hand looked particularly eye-catching, while the transparent spoon in her hand was so inconspicuous.

  On the nineteenth day, the snowfall became smaller. Old Hu was still sleeping, as if he had overslept his winter hibernation.

  On the twenty-first day, perhaps Old Hu's life was worthless and no one wanted it. He woke up, didn't see the girl, but saw the plastic rice boxes still filled with snow water beside him. Old Hu seemed to have thought of something, two lines of murky tears on his face, indistinguishable from snow or tears.

  On the twenty-second day, the girl did not go begging again. She didn't know how Old Man Hu knew that she had been begging, but he wouldn't let her go. Unbeknownst to her, her appearance was already the best answer. Stealing was too obvious, robbing wasn't an option, and no one wanted to adopt her, leaving only her last shred of dignity. Even a vagrant has dignity; perhaps she had lost it before, but now Old Man Hu was protecting her last bit of dignity.

  "Girl, don't go begging again, it's humiliating."

  "But I've done it before, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, we have delicious food every day, isn't that great, Grandpa?"

  "In short, don't go again, listen to me, girl."

  "Alright, Grandpa, I'm not going anymore."

  …………

  "Girl, do you have parents?"

  "No, I ran away from home, they were going to sell me."

  …………

  "How long have you been outside, girl?"

  "I don't know either, it's been about two years I think, how about you grandpa?"

  "From what I remember, it might have been no more than two years left."

  …………

  "Grandpa, when will those trees grow leaves?"

  "It will grow after winter is over."

  "Grandpa, it seems like there's less snow and it's not as cold anymore."

  …………

  Within two months, Ya Tou's body couldn't keep up with Hu Lao Tou. After eating some unhygienic and filthy food, Ya Tou fell ill. Her stomach could only be bent, and straightening her body would cause stabbing pain. They stopped their journey together, and Hu Lao Tou went to find food while the snow had almost melted away, and winter was about to pass.

  On the first day that the girl couldn't move, Old Hu brought her clean food to eat, just like before. He said it was his fellow villagers who helped him out, saying his own granddaughter was ill and needed some clean food. The girl believed him, not noticing the snow on Old Hu's knee that he hadn't had time to brush off - even beggars have to kneel down, or people won't take pity on you, a person with hands and feet.

  The heavens shook for a moment, it was not something of this world, but the will of the creator of this world, her intention, seemed to be excited about what was going to happen next.

  On the first day's evening, Old Hu went to find food, that's how it seemed in Ya Tou's eyes.

  She was in an alley that looked like a restaurant, with trash that had been there forever on one side, and a fat chef stirring something behind a glass panel, occasionally setting off small flames when adding oil, whatever it was inside must have tasted great.

  P.S. These two days have been really intense mentally, and I've had a constant headache. I planned to write longer chapters, but due to personal reasons, it's been intermittent, please forgive me.