The year he first met her, he was twenty-four years old, and she was only seven.
He was being chased and killed on the mountain at the time.
The gun was out of bullets, and he had been shot twice, once in the shoulder and once in the abdomen. The blood that flowed out soaked through his black shirt, staining it an even deeper black.
As he struggled to stay upright and hid behind a tree, he could even hear the footsteps of those people urgently searching for him not far away.
Very close.
So close that if they found the right direction, they could see him within a dozen steps.
However, he was calmer than he had imagined.
At worst, I'll just die.
His men, finding him dead, were perhaps even more excited about his death than those who wanted to kill him. After all, only with him dead could they have a chance to take over.
This was human nature that he understood all too well.
Perhaps one or two of his conscientious subordinates would help him collect his body.
However, for someone abandoned by their parents at birth, raised by scavenging on the streets, and without any relatives or friends, whether they are buried with dignity or left lying in the wilderness after death makes no difference.
Anyway, no one cares, no one is sad, no one mourns.
The footsteps grew closer.
His face was expressionless, his mind as still as water.
It was at that moment that he turned his head and met a pair of eyes.
She is a little girl.
He was very thin, and his skin was tanned from the wind and sun. His clothes were also old and tattered. The wooden basket on his back contained some loose branches.
But it was a youthful and innocent face.
Beneath her long, thick eyelashes, those dark pupils held a pure and clear light he had never seen before. Despite being terrified of the blood-soaked scent, she drew closer.
Are those people looking for you?
She spoke very softly, afraid that people nearby would hear her.
Before he could answer, she reached out and took his hand.
"I'll hide it for you, okay?"
He looked down and saw the bruises and scars on her arms.
Subconsciously, he frowned.
She thought he was unwilling. A hint of helplessness flashed in her eyes, and she tried to pull her hand back.
But he grabbed her hand instead.
He said in a hoarse voice, "Okay."
She took him to a cave hidden by overgrown weeds and hid inside with him.
Sunlight could only penetrate through narrow cracks, making the cave very dim. Yet, this made it feel exceptionally safe.
Seeing the gunshot wound on his body, the child cautiously reached out to touch it, but dared not actually touch it.
"Brother... does it hurt a lot?"
"I'll blow on it for you, and it won't hurt anymore."
As she spoke, she actually moved closer to him.
But he pulled her into his arms with one hand and gestured for her to be quiet.
The child was very clever; he immediately stopped moving and obediently let him hold him.
A few seconds later, intense gunfire erupted outside.
He knew it was his men who had come looking for him.
Are you scared?
He lowered his head and asked.
The child shook his head, his eyes filled with trust.
"...Brother, hold me, I'm not afraid."
"But my brother has a back injury. Won't it hurt more if he hugs me like this?"
At that moment, the outside world was engulfed in gunfire.
He held the child, looked into her eyes, and for the first time felt that the cold blood flowing through his body seemed to have warmed up.
*
After the crisis was over, he carried her out of the cave. He asked her if she wanted to come with him.
A seven-year-old girl was gathering firewood alone on the mountain, her body covered in both old and new scars. This child's life from a young age was probably even more difficult than his own when he was younger.
The child said she didn't know if her aunt would agree.
Those injuries were inflicted by this so-called cousin.
He asked her if she wanted to leave with him.
She nodded.
So he made her take him to his cousin's place, took the gun from his men, and killed the man in front of her.
Dead people have no right to express their opinions.
He would take her away whenever she wanted.
Perhaps he shouldn't have killed in front of such a young child. But he wanted her to see it.
She saw that he could easily kill those who hurt her. This was true then, and it will be true thereafter.
He needed to return to the US first to finish things up and give instructions.
The next day, they sent someone to pick her up.
Perhaps it was because there were too many people around, or perhaps it was because the unfamiliar environment made the child uneasy, having traveled across the ocean to the other side.
When they met for the second time, she looked at him with fear in her eyes.
To stay by his side, the first thing to abandon is cowardice and fear.
He had someone bring him a rabbit.
A very cute rabbit. It is snow-white and fluffy, with round eyes and adorable pink blush.
I originally intended to give it to her as a gift.
But at that moment he changed his mind.
Then someone brought over a knife.
He acted almost indifferently.
"Cut out this rabbit's heart, and from now on you will stay by my side."
"I will adopt you, become your adoptive father, and give you a different life."
He's only twenty-four, and having a seven-year-old daughter makes him seem a bit young.
But the bond with my brother was too weak.
Let me become her father.
If she can stay by his side, he will give her the best things in the world and help her become stronger.
She did not disappoint him.
Despite being terrified and with tears streaming down her face, she still killed the rabbit with trembling hands.
When he pulled out the knife, his thin shoulders trembled so violently.
He wanted to hold her in his arms to comfort her and tell her not to be afraid.
But in the end, he suppressed his impulse and just watched calmly.
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