On the way to Liǔhé Village, Chen Yang frequently observed Chen Hao's condition.
He noticed that despite Chen Hao's young age, the resilience he possessed was outstanding.
Even when tears uncontrollably welled up in his eyes, he remained silent, bearing the pain within by himself.
For a child like this, Chen Yang felt deeply moved.
But he didn't say anything and, once back in Liǔhé Village, he settled Chen Hao in his clinic.
He also prepared a meal for him.
"Uncle Chen Yang, I'm not hungry." Chen Hao's gaze was grateful, but he had no appetite to eat.
"You've lost a lot of blood, and your wounds have just been stitched up; without eating, how can you recover quickly? Have some." Chen Yang spoke calmly.
Hearing this, Chen Hao didn't say anything further, walked to the table, and began to eat.
After eating nearly enough, he suddenly raised his head to look at Chen Yang and asked, "Uncle Chen Yang, were the ones who killed our village monsters?"
