My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

However, the quilt was already soaked with water and had become unusually heavy.

Shu Jingwei used her good hand to support herself against the wall and slowly walked out.

Each step requires first moving your hand forward a bit to secure it, then using your good leg to hop forward, and then pulling your useless leg over. Each step is divided into three movements, and you need to stop and catch your breath after a few steps.

Emerging from the cramped garbage alley, walking through the now deserted streets of Ancheng, we headed out of Ancheng.

The heavy rain pounded on the quilt without stopping.

Each raindrop hitting the soaked quilt made a dull thud, as if countless hands were patting her head at the same time.

The quilt grew heavier and heavier, pressing down on her neck as if it were about to break. Her cervical vertebrae cracked under the pressure, and with each step she took, she felt as if her neck was shrinking further down.

But she couldn't bear to give it up.

This was the only thing she could use to shelter from the rain, and the only thing she could use to sleep. If she lost it, she would have nothing left.

I don't know how long I walked, but I felt that my good arm was so sore that I couldn't lift it anymore.

The skin on my palms, which were braced against the wall, was worn away by the rough wall, revealing the pink flesh underneath. Faint bloodstains were left on the rough wall.

Finally out of the city, the view suddenly became much wider.

With no houses to block the view outside the city, the sky looked several times larger, stretching from overhead to the far distance, with the faint shadows of a few crooked trees visible on the horizon.

But at the same time, there was no wall for her to lean on.

However, the water outside the city was not deep, only a thin layer. She simply covered herself with a quilt and crawled on the ground. Surprisingly, this was much faster.

As darkness fell again, the night wind picked up and began to whip raindrops across her face.

Her soaked clothes clung to her body, and with each gust of wind, they were lifted up and then stuck back on, each time against an even colder fabric, making her shiver involuntarily.

She crawled forward, trembling, her teeth chattering, the skin on her elbows and knees scraped raw and burning.

Finally, she saw a dilapidated house, its outline vaguely visible in the rain.

The house sat low in a patch of weeds by the roadside.

The walls were made of adobe bricks, which had become somewhat soft from the rain. Several large pieces of the mud plaster on the outer wall had peeled off, revealing the adobe bricks mixed with bits of straw inside.

There are vertical water streaks on the wall, which are caused by rainwater running down the wall.

A thick layer of moss grew in the corner of the wall. The moss was glossy from the rain, and its color changed from dark green to a dark green that was almost black. It felt wet and slippery to the touch.

If you poke the wall with your finger, you can make a shallow fingerprint, but thankfully it hasn't collapsed yet.

The door was long gone, leaving only a dark, gaping door frame.

The wood on the door frame was riddled with wormholes, forming a honeycomb-like network of holes. Rainwater seeped in and then seeped out from the holes, turning a dark yellow color and carrying the rotten smell of decaying wood chips.

Several tattered spider webs hung on either side, but there was no sign of any spiders. Only the rain-damaged web threads trembled in the wind, as if they might break at any moment.

The roof was thatched, and there was a layer of tarpaulin on the outside, but it looked quite old, with many holes in it, revealing the blackened thatch underneath.

Upon entering the house, a damp, musty smell hit me, mixed with an earthy odor and the stench of urine left by some unknown animal.

A thin layer of water covered the ground, and rain was still dripping from several places on the roof, each drop creating a small ripple on the water's surface that spread outwards in concentric circles.

The room was completely empty except for a bed made of stacked stones and a wooden plank on top of it.

The walls were bare, with only a few patches of mud that had blistered. The blisters were filled with rainwater that had seeped in, and they would burst if you poked them with your finger, oozing out yellowish-brown mud.

The stone bed was nothing more than a few gray stones of varying sizes stacked together, with a layer of slippery moss growing in the cracks between the stones, which felt cool and sticky to the touch.

But Shu Jingwei is already very satisfied.

She stood at the doorway, looking around the room again and again, and surprisingly, she was in a good mood.

There are four windproof walls and a intact roof. Although it still leaks a bit, it's much better than the door panel in the alley.

And there was a bed—though it was just a plank on a stone, it was a bed, flat and dry, the most bed-like thing she had seen in days.

This is already much better than the garbage alley.

Shu Jingwei took the quilt off her head, and as it slid down, it brought with it a puddle of water that splashed onto the ground.

The intact arm was shaking violently, trembling from the shoulder to the wrist, and the shoulder joint ached as if it were dislocated. The fingers were so stiff that they could barely straighten.

She forced the quilt between her thighs and wrung it hard with her right hand, squeezing out murky water that dripped sparsely onto the ground, mixing with the puddles.

She twisted and twisted again and again, her arms aching as if a tendon had been pulled out with each twist. To exert more force, the muscles on Shu Jingwei's face tensed up in a grimace.

Even when it could no longer be wrung out, the quilt was still heavy, and it couldn't be wrung out clean at this point, as the cotton inside had already absorbed a lot of water.

At least it's stopped dripping.

Then Shu Jingwei spread the quilt on the only wooden board. When the quilt was spread out, it made a muffled "plop" sound and kicked up a small patch of dust.

Then she propped herself up on the edge of the bed, moved her numb leg onto the bed, curled herself up, and lay down on her side.

The house was quiet, with only the sound of heavy rain coming in from outside.

The rain pattered on the tarpaulin with a dull thud, on the thatch with a soft rustling sound, and on the muddy ground outside with a muffled thud.

Different sounds mingled together, high and low, near and far, like a symphony that never stops.

Occasionally, a gust of wind would blow in through the broken doorway, carrying the scent of rain and earth, and brush coolly across her face.

She smelled the faint musty and fishy odor of moss in the air, her ears filled with the repetitive sound of rain, and closed her eyes.

He soon fell into a deep sleep.

The sound of breathing mingled with the sound of rain, so faint as to be almost inaudible.

Shu Jingwei spent a few days there in a daze, picking some rotten wild grass nearby when she was hungry.

The leaves of those wild grasses had been soaked through by the rain and were transparent. They would rot if you pinched them, and when you put them in your mouth, they tasted bitter and astringent, with a muddy smell.

When you chew until only rough fibers remain in your mouth, it's very harsh on your throat when you swallow it.

When thirsty, you can drink rainwater directly; all you need to do is tilt your head back, open your mouth, and face the sky to drink it.

The rainwater flowed into my mouth, cool and with an indescribable taste, mixed with the smell of dust.

She swallowed with difficulty, thinking to herself with a touch of self-deprecation: This is a rare convenience.

Just when Shu Jingwei thought she would have to wait until the rain stopped,

Another major turning point in her life had arrived.