It had been three days since Wei Jian met Jun Wu and the situation inside the slum had changed.
To the untrained eyes, the slum was still the same but those living in the slum could see the minute changes.
Kids not older than 15 years moved in twos and threes, their faces filled with shock and confusion.
"Is it true?" a thin girl whispered, her voice trembling as she looked at her partner.
Her clothes, once bright, had long faded to dull rags, hanging loosely over her frail frame.
Her skin was pale, stretched thin over sharp bones, and her tangled hair clung to her face.
A sour, nauseating smell clung to her body—yet in the slums, such odors no longer turned heads.
The alleys reeked of rot, smoke, and unwashed bodies. Trash piled high like walls, and stagnant water glistened with filth under the sun.
No one cared; survival left no room for pride. Parents barely had food for their starving children, so who could afford the luxury of dignity?
