Wang Defa's mind immediately filled with images of his happy family—his loving wife, his two obedient children.
Nothing mattered more than his family.
One silver coin. He'd give it to Qin Siyang. Consider it a loss.
"Alright. I understand," he said quietly.
Wang Defa left the warehouse without another word, closing the door behind him for Qin Siyang.
Qin Siyang turned on the computer and pulled up the "Godslayer Camp" Forum and "Sequence Education" Forum, scrolling through the information he needed.
Since this would likely be his last chance to research for a while, he left no stone unturned.
For more complex details, he jotted notes down on scrap paper from the warehouse—afraid that any lapse in memory could lead to catastrophic mistakes.
By the time Qin Siyang exited the warehouse, it was already midnight.
The internet café had long since closed, and Wang Defa had gone home.
After locking the warehouse door and confirming he was alone, he raced back to his own place.
"Today was truly rewarding," he muttered sincerely as he lay in bed after a cold shower, staring at his notes.
"I'll have my hands full these next few days."
At around six o'clock the next morning, Qin Siyang got up, packed his things, pulled his collar up to cover his face, and put on a wide-brimmed hat—ensuring no one could recognize him before stepping outside.
Instead of heading straight to school, he first stopped at a general store. He bought two envelopes, a sheet of paper, and a worn pencil for one copper coin, then asked the shopkeeper to place one envelope and the paper inside the other.
Though confused by the request, the shopkeeper obliged.
Clutching the envelopes, Qin Siyang followed the map he'd researched the night before and walked to the police station—thirty minutes away from school.
It was still early, so only two officers stood guard outside. The main gate was half-open, with few people coming or going.
He scanned the area, spotting a public mailbox in front of the station. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
He then circled around to the alley beside the police station.
The alley was home to many homeless people—mostly high school graduates who'd been unable to find work in the poverty-stricken edge of the safe zone.
Desperate to survive, they'd sold the housing allocated to them by the United Government, becoming street drifters.
Where there were homeless adults, there were often homeless children.
Many流浪者 had abandoned their kids to avoid being burdened, leaving to seek opportunities elsewhere.
So Qin Siyang wasn't surprised to see several orphaned children huddled in the alley.
It made him realize his own circumstances—even after rebirth—weren't the worst.
At least he could still go to school and have enough to eat. Unlike these children in the alley, who'd been born into hopelessness.
He felt a twinge of sympathy, but could only sigh. He had no power to change their fate.
Qin Siyang walked along the dim alley and stopped in front of the youngest-looking orphan.
"Can you read?" he asked.
The child's face was caked in dirt, and he chewed on his blackened fingernails as he stared up at Qin Siyang with wide, curious eyes.
But Qin Siyang's face was hidden in shadow—he couldn't make out any features.
Qin Siyang repeated the question. "Can you read?"
The child shook his head.
"Good," Qin Siyang said, handing him the outer envelope. "Open this."
Confused, the child did as he was told.
"Take out the envelope and the paper inside," Qin Siyang instructed.
Once the child had the supplies, Qin Siyang picked up a wooden stick and found a patch of soft, damp earth.
"Copy the characters I draw with this stick onto the paper."
He drew two characters in the dirt. The child stared at them for a long time, clearly not understanding what they meant.
"Just copy the shape," Qin Siyang said.
The child grabbed the pencil with both hands and traced the characters onto the paper—more drawing than writing.
When he finished, he looked up at Qin Siyang with innocent, wide eyes.
"Perfect," Qin Siyang said. "Put this paper into the smaller envelope you took out earlier."
The child smiled shyly at the praise.
"Now write the same characters on the outside of that envelope," Qin Siyang continued.
After the child obediently completed the task, Qin Siyang nodded in approval.
"You're so clever! Can you help me put this envelope into the big box in front of the police station?"
The child looked confused.
Qin Siyang erased the characters from the dirt with his foot, threw the stick deep into the alley, and said, "Come with me."
He led the child out of the alley, pointing to the brightly lit police station.
"Do you see that big blue box?"
The child nodded.
"Can you put this letter inside for me? You're such a smart kid—I know you can do it!"
At the sight of the police station, the child suddenly looked scared.
"No… no…" he whimpered, his eyes filled with resistance—as if he'd suffered at the hands of officers before.
"If you help me, I'll give you something to eat," Qin Siyang said, opening his lunchbox to reveal a serving of thousand-petal mushroom rice.
The child's eyes lit up at the sight of the food.
"Promise…?"
"I promise. I'll wait right here for you."
The child gritted his teeth, as if making a huge decision. He stared at the police station's mailbox, then sprinted toward it as fast as his little legs could carry him.
Qin Siyang watched as the child slipped the envelope into the mailbox, then raced back.
Out of breath and speaking through gasps, the child said, "Food…?"
"You did amazing!" Qin Siyang smiled, handing him the lunchbox.
The child immediately began shoveling the food into his mouth, ravenous.
Qin Siyang stood beside him until he finished, then took back the empty lunchbox.
"Was it good?"
The child nodded enthusiastically, a smile on his dirty face.
"If you liked it, I'll bring you more next time. Oh, and if anyone asks you questions, you have to say you can't read. Remember that?"
"Mm!"
Qin Siyang left the alley and turned toward school.
He could have given the child better food, but only the cafeteria meals had a strong enough odor to mask his own scent—ensuring no one could trace the letter back to him.
"Hope we can have a pleasant meeting tomorrow, Officer Roylena."
An hour later, officers began arriving at the police station one after another—including Roylena.
"Morning, Roylena!"
"Morning, Levi!"
Roylena greeted her colleagues warmly.
"Hey, Roylena… I think there's a letter for you," the receptionist said, frowning as he studied the handwriting on the envelope, uncertain.
"It might not be, but these characters… I think they say 'To Roylena.' What do you think?"
Roylena took the envelope, staring at the crooked, childish handwriting with a confused frown.
"When did this arrive?"
"No idea. Could have been last night or this morning—I just found it while sorting through the mailbox. Probably a prank by some kid."
"The envelope isn't sealed. I can open it and check. If it's not for me, I'll leave it here for someone to claim."
"Sounds like a plan, Roylena."
Roylena smiled, tore open the envelope, and glanced inside.
The smile froze on her face.