"Why do you ask?"
Luo Wei looked at the tragic scene before her, her voice devoid of any emotion. "How long would those carriages of supplies last for these people?"
"With so many elderly and children, what's the point of saving them?"
"Those people who can't even afford proper clothes, with their limbs frostbitten - they're going to die anyway. Wouldn't giving them food be a waste?"
Not to mention the expensive medicine needed to treat their frostbite, even if they recovered, they would be permanently disabled.
In this cruel era, serfs who lost their hands and feet meant losing their ability to work - they had no future.
"Just because it might be wasteful, we shouldn't save them? Even saving one more life would be worth it!" Laura said with compassion.
Although she wasn't fully human, she had grown up with her parents in a human village and felt strong empathy for humans.
Some of these people might have been her childhood neighbors; Laura couldn't bear to watch.
"Laura, you need to understand that human lives can be measured in money. When the cost of saving them far exceeds any benefit they could return, it's not worth it,"
When Luo Wei was selecting horses in Siria, merchants had asked if she needed slaves - the price of one horse could buy four slaves, showing how cheap human life was.
"Most importantly," she paused before saying softly, "pure faith often springs from absolute despair."
"Let's go. Some things are beyond our power to change."
Luo Wei comfortingly patted Laura's shoulder and took her small round hand.
The little cat's paw was soft and thick, feeling like a squishy silicone ball in her grip.
She wondered what Laura's original form looked like - perhaps a fluffy golden gradient Western cat?
She seemed to have dreamed about it before, but forgot upon waking.
The five of them walked out of the fence, silently passing through the refugees, their gazes fixed straight ahead, pretending not to see the painful scenes around them.
Just as they were about to leave, a peasant woman holding a child suddenly collapsed at their feet, grabbing Luo Wei's skirt.
"Miss, kind miss, please save my child, please take it away, I beg you..."
The peasant woman's face had an abnormal dark red color, her pupils dilated and lifeless, as if unable to respond to external stimuli, mechanically repeating her pleas for help.
Her shoulders were bare, having removed her outer dress to wrap layer upon layer of coarse linen around the infant in her arms.
"Miss, please take it away, miss, please..."
The scene was quite eerie - though the woman spoke words of pleading, her expression was like a soulless puppet, making one's skin crawl.
Laura felt both pity and fear; the peasant woman's gaze was terrifying.
"Miss Luo Wei..." she glanced at Luo Wei but closed her mouth again.
Miss Luo Wei's eyes looked strange too, unfamiliar to her.
"Please..." the peasant woman continued begging, but none of the five spoke.
If it had been a seven or eight-year-old child, or even five or six years old, they might have helped.
But an infant, one that appeared less than five months old, unable to walk, needing to be fed milk - they couldn't save it.
Even Troy, who usually showed kindness, turned away unable to bear the sight.
"In such cold weather, infants are hard to keep alive," Hol suddenly spoke up.
He looked at the peasant woman blocking their way and seriously advised: "Give up on it. You're still young, you can have more children later."
"Put your clothes back on properly. The church will distribute bread soon, you'll be able to fill your stomach quickly."
"If you keep freezing like this, you'll die before the bread arrives, and if you die, it won't survive either."
The peasant woman stared with dull eyes, her cracked purplish lips still moving: "Save it, please save it..."
Hol's usually gentle face showed a rare trace of irritation. He couldn't understand why this peasant woman was so stubborn when he had offered the best solution.
Looking at her strong build, why sacrifice herself for an infant just a few months old? In these times, every mother lost several children - he'd never seen anyone so persistent.
"Please let go. We cannot save your child," Hol's patience was exhausted.
He could see that four of their five-person group were soft-hearted; only he could play the villain.
Hol squatted down, about to free Luo Wei's skirt from the peasant woman's grip, when he heard the girl's voice above him, soft as the wind.
"Hol, please help me take the child."
Hol was stunned, looking up at Luo Wei: "Miss Luo Wei, you want to save this child?"
"I'm not sure we can save it, but let me hold it first."
Hol's face was full of confusion. Luo Wei didn't seem like someone who would easily soften, so why did she suddenly agree to the peasant woman's request?
In his view, saving this infant would only bring her trouble.
But since Luo Wei insisted, he could only take the baby from the peasant woman and stand up to show her: "It's very dirty and smells bad. Are you sure you want to take it with us?"
Luo Wei reached out to touch the infant's cheek. It wasn't smooth at all, but felt like sandpaper covered in scabs from frostbite.
"Yes, we'll take it. Thank you for holding it for now."
She looked down at the peasant woman and noticed her forearms were covered in horrific purple-red scabs, with her visible fingers raw and bloody. Looking at the child again, she saw traces of blood around its mouth.
"I promise you, I will take it away."
"You can go now."
The peasant woman's mouth hung open as she stared blankly at Luo Wei, her right hand still clutching her skirt.
Luo Wei bent down and pried open her rigid fingers one by one. The woman's hand fell limp, but her face showed an eerie smile.
"Ah!" Laura covered her mouth. "Miss Luo Wei, she... she..."
"She's dead," Luo Wei said calmly, straightening up as she watched the woman's eyelids slowly close.
People near death from freezing experience an abnormal sensation of heat, making them feel hot and remove their clothes.
Strong people could survive this stage, but the weak would die from various complications or cardiac fibrillation.
The peasant woman had fed her own blood to the child, accelerating her death through blood loss.
Luo Wei looked at the infant in Hol's arms. The tiny baby, unaware it had just lost its mother, slept peacefully in its thick swaddling.
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
Hol quickly checked: "A girl."
Luo Wei nodded: "Then her name will be Luolin."
Luolin meant hope. Although she had survived by taking her mother's blood, born from the death of another life, she also carried that life's hopes.
If not for being unable to let go of this child, the peasant woman would have died long ago - or perhaps she was already dead, with only her body still moving.
After the execution ground incident, Luo Wei had developed a trauma regarding peasant women and initially didn't want to help, but this woman showed her another side of human nature - sacrifice and devotion.
This was the weight of maternal love.
She didn't understand such sacrifice, but she respected such people.
"Are we taking this child back to Siria?" Laura asked worriedly, feeling the child might die on the journey.
Luo Wei thought for a moment before turning to Hol: "Could you help me with something?"
Hol guessed what she was going to say: "You want us to take her back?"
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