The front bumper nearly grazed them. A timely brake and flawless control kept the car from hitting the siblings.
Both children squeezed their eyes shut, hugging each other tightly as their bodies trembled. Chaithanya hurried out of the car and sighed in relief when he saw they were safe. Still, he felt speechless and muttered in his thoughts: "You two are still kids—why rush to die so young? You haven't even seen life yet. If you really want to die, there are other ways. Why ruin my car and my life in the process? Look at me—I reincarnated into this body and haven't even touched a single Chinese woman, and now you want to send me to jail that badly?"
"You two, what the hell are you doing in the middle of the road?" Chaithanya asked, his stern gaze fixed on them.
"We… we didn't mean to cause trouble, sir," the little girl stammered, "we were scared and looking for someone to save our mother."
"Save your mother? What happened?" Chaithanya asked, kneeling down on one knee.
Though there wasn't much of a crowd, a few people had stopped after the incident. They sighed in relief seeing the kids unharmed. But then their surprise grew as they noticed Junhao speaking to the children like an older brother, kneeling in front of them. Phones came out immediately, snapping photos.
Xiuying stepped out of the car, shocked by what she saw. She rushed over and whispered sharply so only he could hear: "What are you doing? Stand up already. These kids are beggars, and you're kneeling in front of them. Do you not care about your A-list actor image anymore?"
Chaithanya frowned. "If I didn't have money or this A-list actor status, wouldn't I also be considered a beggar? So you'd look down on me too, treat me like an eyesore?"
Her lips parted, but no words came out. The rebuttal she had prepared stuck in her throat. She stared at him blankly, thinking, "Yeah… who is he without his status and money? At the end of the day, being human is what matters. Kindness begets kindness."
The little girl, who had overheard Xiuying's words, widened her eyes. Her heart trembled—touched, yet fearful. She clutched her younger brother tightly, gently dragging him away toward the roadside.
"Wait, where are you going?" In a single step, Chaithanya was beside them. He reached out to stop her.
"Sir, stop—don't… don't touch us. We're dirty."
He shook his head, gently rubbing her hair before bending down to examine the boy. The child's small body was covered with bruises, some wounds still bleeding.
Turning to Xiuying, who had followed them, he said firmly, "This little boy is injured. Take him to the nearest hospital in our car."
Xiuying nodded, though hesitation lingered in her eyes.
"What? Is there a problem?" Chaithanya frowned.
"What about the show?" she asked cautiously.
"If they call, tell them to postpone it until tomorrow." His tone left no room for argument.
"Okay." Xiuying gave a reluctant nod, then carefully lifted the little boy and walked him toward the car.
Chaithanya turned back to the girl, softening his expression. "Don't worry about your brother. He'll be fine—I've sent him to get treatment."
Tears streamed down her cheeks. With a thud, she knelt and kowtowed before him, gratitude shining through her trembling form.
"Don't do that. Get up," Chaithanya exclaimed, quickly lifting her by the shoulders.
"Why didn't you go to the police if your mother is in danger?" he asked seriously.
"I did, but the officers wouldn't file a report. They didn't even want to hear me out," the little girl said, her voice filled with despair.
"They refused to listen?" Chaithanya muttered, fury flashing in his eyes. "So the bastards in uniform are the same everywhere in this world."
He clenched his fist, then looked at her with determination. "Take me to where they took your mother. I'll save her."
As he walked off with the girl, the media arrived, swarming the scene to interview bystanders. Once finished, reporters hurried in the direction pointed out by the witnesses.
A few minutes later, Chaithanya and the girl reached an old apartment building. He slipped a few RMB bills into her hand and pointed at a nearby fast-food stall. "Spend this money and eat your fill while I deal with those bastards."
"No… I don't need money. Just buy me food, that's enough," she said timidly.
"Alright." Chaithanya patted her head, then ordered a table full of dishes for her, spending over 300 RMB. Leaving her there, he turned back toward the apartment.
Surprisingly, no one stood guard outside the entrance, as if they were too confident no one would dare approach. Chaithanya smirked. "I thought I'd get some dramatic Bollywood-style entrance. Guess not. Seems I'll just have to knock like a Hollywood hero instead."
Knock. Knock.
As expected, he didn't have to wait long. The door creaked open, revealing a bald thug with a scratch on his cheek—a typical street punk.
"What do you want?" the man sneered, then blinked in recognition. "Wait… you're that actor Junhao, right? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Oh, just sightseeing." Chaithanya smirked—and in a flash, his fist smashed into the thug's face. The man flew back, crashing into the wall. The commotion drew the attention of nearby thugs.
"Arghhh!" the bald man shrieked, rolling on the floor like a wounded animal.
Chaithanya walked over and drove a kick into his gut. "Shut the hell up. Why are you squealing like a pig being slaughtered? I just punched you in the face—no need for all this drama."
The thug writhed even more, crying louder.
The other gang members rushed in, stunned at the sight of their comrade writhing like a dying pig.
"What a useless piece of trash! Can't even handle a flower boy like him? What the hell are you eating—shit?" one thug barked, pointing angrily at his fallen friend.
But those words lit a fire inside Chaithanya. His expression darkened, voice turning icy. "You pig bastard… what did you just call me?"
Any insult he could take—but calling him a "flower boy" struck a nerve. That was his reverse scale. And now, they were dead men.