Chapter 2: 2, The world never believes in tears

Due to the robber and the sudden fainting incident, Ren Xiaosu returned late. He glanced at the sky about to be swallowed by darkness—this was a perilous time to pass through the settlement with prey.

During the day, those in the Refuge Wall emerged to maintain order, but at night they retreated behind the walls.

Of course, the people in the Refuge Wall were not kind-hearted; they feared the settlement’s chaos would disrupt the labor of the refugees.

“Yo, Ren Xiaosu’s haul is quite something today!”

As Ren Xiaosu staggered into the settlement carrying an iron pot, someone greeted him. The man’s face was black with grime, as if he’d never washed it since birth.

Many in the settlement were like this—during the day, they mined coal in nearby pits to exchange for food, which was transported into the Refuge Wall. Workers there received just enough black bread or potatoes to survive.

Not only did they mine coal, but all the dirty work required by the Refuge Wall was done by those outside its walls.

The well water in the settlement was rationed, barely enough for each person. Nearby, there were no clean water sources—or rather, clean sources were too dangerous, teeming with beasts drawn to drink. Thus, everyone in the settlement was filthy, their features indistinct, and Ren Xiaosu was no exception.

However, Ren Xiaosu never mined coal; he had his own way of surviving.

Seeing someone greet him, Ren Xiaosu did not respond. He only wished to hurry back to his hut.

As he passed through the settlement’s narrow path, the towering Refuge Wall loomed ahead. When he looked up, it seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, heavy with oppression.

The settlement had few stone buildings; most lived in makeshift huts.

Originally at ease, Ren Xiaosu suddenly grew alert upon entering the settlement. He even drew a bone knife from his waist. The atmosphere on the street grew tense, as if the huts concealed some lurking danger. Yet when Ren Xiaosu drew his knife, those restless figures quieted.

The first lesson Ren Xiaosu learned living here was never to trust anyone… except Yan Liuyuan.

Whispers came from a hut by the roadside: “Ren Xiaosu actually caught prey again.”

“What kind of prey? Just a sparrow.”

“This isn’t like the sparrows in the old textbooks. I reckon even hawks before the catastrophe were no bigger than this.”

“Don’t provoke him,” a voice ended the murmurs, as if someone understood Ren Xiaosu’s past.

Ren Xiaosu lifted his door curtain. The warmth inside made his body less rigid.

Yan Liuyuan, sitting inside doing homework, looked up and exclaimed in delight: “You caught a sparrow?”

“Why didn’t you light the coal oil lamp?” Ren Xiaosu frowned.

Yan Liuyuan was usually not well-behaved, at least not in front of others, but before Ren Xiaosu, his “brother,” he was unexpectedly gentle: “I wanted to save some coal oil for the family.”

“What if you go nearsighted?” Ren Xiaosu set the sparrow down.

Yan Liuyuan’s eyes brightened: “The schoolmaster said there were things called glasses before the catastrophe. He also said they still exist now, but inside the Refuge Wall. With them, even if you’re nearsighted, you’re safe.”

Ren Xiaosu sneered at this: “I’ve seen people with those things. Trusting your vision to something that might fall off in this wilderness is like courting death. Don’t listen to your schoolmaster’s nonsense—his words aren’t always true.”

“Oh…” Yan Liuyuan nodded: “Then why do you send me to school?”

Ren Xiaosu choked: “Enough of that.”

“When can I hunt with you?” Yan Liuyuan pressed.

“You’re only fourteen. What’s the point of hunting? Go to school and learn—accounting, physics, chemistry. Isn’t that better than hunting?”

“You’re only seventeen,” Yan Liuyuan protested.

Even in this era, even the wildest souls understood knowledge’s value.

That was why schoolmasters could survive in the settlement—no matter the chaos, they were safest. No one dared touch them.

Except tuition was expensive, otherwise Ren Xiaosu would have gone himself.

As he propped up the iron pot and skillfully dissected the sparrow, Ren Xiaosu said: “What did the schoolmaster lecture on today? This sparrow will only give you its innards. The rest must be sold tomorrow.”

“You’re hurt?” Yan Liuyuan frowned at the wound on Ren Xiaosu’s palm, where the sparrow had pecked him, blood still flowing.

The iron pot hung over the fire pit, casting flickering shadows on Ren Xiaosu’s face: “A minor injury.”

Silence fell. Soon, Ren Xiaosu fished out the sparrow’s innards and handed them to Yan Liuyuan: “Eat.”

Yan Liuyuan’s eyes reddened suddenly: “I won’t eat. You eat—you need to recover.”

“I’ll just drink some broth,” Ren Xiaosu said: “I have black bread.”

“I won’t eat. This isn’t a minor injury. A few days ago, someone in the settlement died from an infection caused by a small wound. We have no medicine,” Yan Liuyuan insisted stubbornly, tears welling.

*Slap.*

Ren Xiaosu struck Yan Liuyuan’s face unexpectedly: “Remember, we can’t cry in this world. This world doesn’t believe in tears.”

Ren Xiaosu continued: “Look at the people around us. If you don’t eat, someone might burst in and stab me to death. I send you to school because I don’t want you to end up like me, scraping a living in the wilderness. You have talents—study hard, and you won’t have to be wild like them!”

Yan Liuyuan suddenly grabbed the sparrow’s innards and devoured them, tears unshed. He had to learn to be strong like Ren Xiaosu.

“Cough, cough, after eating, use a clean cloth to bandage my wound,” Ren Xiaosu said.

“Oh,” Yan Liuyuan agreed.

“You’re so clever outside, but at home you’re like a sulking child,” Ren Xiaosu sighed: “Did anything happen in the settlement today?”

“Right,” Yan Liuyuan searched for a clean cloth while speaking: “A group came out of the Refuge Wall. They’re looking for a guide to lead them to Refuge Wall 112 through Jing Mountain.”

“Refuge Wall 112?” Ren Xiaosu froze, frowning: “They insist on Jing Mountain?”

“Do you think they’ll come for you? Everyone in the settlement knows you know the outside,” Yan Liuyuan blinked: “I heard they’re a band and singers from Refuge Wall 113, invited to perform at 112. I’ve never seen a singer before.”

“I won’t go,” Ren Xiaosu shook his head: “Whoever wants to go to Jing Mountain can go. Stay away from them—they’re odd.”

At that moment, Ren Xiaosu felt conflicted. What kind of world was this, where there were still people who sang and played music? What was the Refuge Wall like?

Suddenly, he felt a pang of longing.