Chapter 202: Rebirth
A rainy day.
Countless icy raindrops fell from the sky, soaking everything — even the air felt damp.
This was one of the few quiet, sparsely populated areas in the city: the landfill.
Cold searchlights swept intermittently across mountains of piled-up trash. In the distance, red warning beacons blinked, reminding scavengers that even though this place was filled with waste, it was far from safe.
Yet despite that, a few desperate souls from the slums still came under cover of night, hoping to find something of use.
Xu Zhi awoke from the cold.
When she first opened her eyes, her mind was blank — no memory, only pain and exhaustion. Her body ached all over, her head throbbed like mush.
The freezing rain fell on her motionless body, but she barely reacted. She could only feel her frail, dying life ebbing away, slowly and quietly.
If she didn’t find shelter soon — somewhere to get warm — this chill alone might take her life.
Her brain told her to move, to leave this place, to live…
But her body refused.
Even lifting her eyelids felt impossible. Her limbs were heavy and unresponsive, as if they no longer belonged to her. She tried to move a finger — nothing. She tried to open her eyes — only a faint twitch.
Thinking itself was agony. Within half a minute of waking, she already felt herself slipping toward unconsciousness again.
But if she passed out here… wouldn’t she die?
A surge of panic welled up. Xu Zhi didn’t even know why she felt such fear, but the instinct to survive screamed within her. She wanted to sleep, to sink into the darkness, but that buried instinct kept her from giving in.
Then — a faint rustling sound.
Normally it would’ve been negligible, but in Xu Zhi’s dulled perception it roared like thunder. Her lashes trembled — something was beside her. Something — or someone.
Her mind was foggy, her memory blank, but instinctively she fought to open her eyes.
Through blurred vision, she caught sight of a shadowy figure climbing over the trash heap. The figure — a woman — froze when she noticed Xu Zhi lying there. A plastic bag hung from her hand.
Xu Zhi’s eyes, clouded like frosted glass, couldn’t make out the woman’s face.
And just opening them had drained all her strength. Within seconds, she lost the battle — her eyelids fell shut again, and her mind sank back into darkness.
In her final flicker of awareness, she thought she saw the woman hesitate, then step toward her.
What… is she going to do?
No time for an answer — Xu Zhi blacked out completely.
—
In the Third Landfill, a woman struggled to hoist the unconscious girl onto her back. The girl was limp and cold, her weight awkward to carry. The woman used several ropes to secure her in place, fearing she might slip and fall on the rain-slick ground.
Her scavenger’s bag hung empty — tonight, she’d found nothing of value except this dying stranger.
Usually, rainy nights were when she dared to come — when others stayed home, she could search safely.
But not tonight.
Step by step, she trudged through the mud, avoiding the sweep of the searchlights, heading for the landfill’s exit.
The Third Landfill was massive. Waste from both the city’s surface and its underground sectors was dumped here. It was, therefore, a hotspot for scavengers — even in weather like this, silhouettes still moved among the heaps.
She had come early to avoid them. She was no fighter, and scavengers could be ruthless.
Now, as she passed a few figures slipping in from the dark, their eyes met hers — cautious, cold. When they saw her empty bag, they quickly lost interest.
No profit, no trouble.
In this world, no one made enemies for free.
Their faces — reflected faintly in the puddles — were all the same: wary, hollow, and resigned. Rats living in the city’s shadow, gnawing at its waste to survive, forever waiting for disaster to strike.
Once she finally stepped beyond the dump, the woman exhaled in relief. She adjusted the rope holding Xu Zhi and continued toward “home.”
Home — if it could be called that — was a shack in the slums beyond the industrial zone, where she lived alone.
A narrow structure cobbled together from wood, bricks, plastic sheets, and cement — barely thirty square meters, but functional enough.
The door was the sturdiest part — a necessity for a woman living by herself.
She opened it and carried Xu Zhi inside. Rainwater dripped from the ceiling; she’d placed a bucket there before leaving, and it was already half full.
The smell of damp earth mixed with the scent of cheap, scavenged furniture. The walls were thin and uninsulated, offering no warmth, no peace.
Yet the space was neat and carefully kept — mismatched furniture arranged thoughtfully, muted colors, a few potted plants by the window. The air was clean, the table uncluttered. Despite poverty, the place carried traces of dignity.
Outside, the industrial district roared endlessly, but its residents had long since stopped hearing it.
The woman didn’t lay Xu Zhi directly on the bed. She set her on a chair first, then boiled water. When she lit the gas stove, a flicker of pain crossed her face — gas wasn’t cheap — but she didn’t hesitate.
The girl had been shivering violently when she carried her home, her skin icy cold, her lips bloodless.
Once the water was warm, the woman went to undress her and bathe her — but when she pulled back the cloak, she froze.
Underneath was a body covered in blood and wounds.
Her hands stopped mid-motion.
