"Darling? Mommy? Uh..."
Lynn turned his head in surprise, realizing he was less than ten centimeters away from the wrinkled and old face he had initially imagined.
Whoa! What was this old woman?
With her typical narrow cheekbones, pointed chin, soft hair ends, and charming eyes, albeit not as stunning as Audrey Hepburn, she was still a refreshing and intellectually understanding young housewife!
The disparity between the old woman and the young woman was striking, but Lynn couldn't be blamed for his mistake. Imagine, a woman of this age, if her appearance and spirit were relatively normal, even without heavy makeup and flashy attire, she wouldn't dress in such unadorned dark colors. Also, she seemed slightly hunched over, adding to the confusion, making her a perfect match for the white goatee!
Her perfectly double-folded eyelids framed beautiful deep brown eyes. Yet, the profound sadness between her brows was so deep that Lynn couldn't help but feel sympathy; perhaps this was what they meant by "heartache upon seeing."
Throughout history, young widows have always attracted attention, especially those with a bit of charm. Lynn, with his youthful vigor, was no exception among men. However, his continuous fantasies were more emotional than physical: her husband had passed away two years ago, and while the initial grief might have faded with time, she still appeared so sad. Was it because of the child's innocence or the increasingly tense supply situation along with the deteriorating situation?
From Lynn's superficial understanding of European women, this young widow shouldn't be over thirty-five—perhaps only twenty-five or twenty-six. She had only a strand of hair left on her forehead, and her brownish hair appeared to be tied up.
At her mother's call, the child, with a childish voice, said, "No," still clutching Lynn's thigh tightly, fearing that if she let go, her "father" would disappear. The widow glanced at Lynn, and in that awkward moment of eye contact, they both felt uncomfortable. She had to stand up, her face hidden again under the shawl, her posture slightly hunched, made even more apparent by her heavy clothing, leading Lynn to initially mistake her for an "old woman."
Seeing the child reluctant to let go, Lynn's left hand moved to her waist, and he called out, "Ka Chui-li." The child reflexively loosened her grip, allowing Lynn to pick her up. She didn't seem to mind his dirty and sweaty body, quickly and naturally wrapping her arms around his neck, murmuring, "Daddy... Daddy..."
Experiencing fatherhood before marriage, Lynn knew this was a "false happiness," but seeing the relief in the old man's eyes and the blush on the young woman's face, he suddenly felt a tingling sensation in his heart: fleeing with them to a place far from the ravages of war, living a simple life with his family of four, wasn't that also a choice in life?
Rational thinking quickly interrupted Lynn's speculation; now, escorting these civilians to Konigsberg as quickly as possible was the priority. The child was light, and carrying her wasn't too burdensome, but holding two suitcases in one hand while carrying her with the other was inconvenient. Lynn had to bend down to put them down—one could feel the child's hands tightening around his neck.
"It's okay, Ka Chui-li, don't worry!"
Though Lynn's German was clumsy, these simple common phrases could still be understood. The child's hands relaxed a bit, her obedient behavior further stirring Lynn's compassion and affection.
The true owner of the two suitcases, an old man wearing a black gentleman's hat, seemed to have followed them from the beginning. Seeing Lynn carelessly drop his suitcase, the old man swiftly approached and, with remarkable agility, picked up the smaller but heavier suitcase. Muttering to himself in a disgruntled tone, he continued to stand vigilantly on the side, as if ready to "supervise" Lynn carrying the suitcase throughout the journey.
Lynn couldn't be bothered with the miserly old man's appearance. He knelt down, bit the tip of his glove with his teeth, and, after a moment of rummaging in his pocket, pulled out a candy he had exchanged with a tall soldier in town the day before using "Popo Sha" submachine gun, handing it to the little girl.
"Wow, thank you, Daddy!"
The little girl's teary voice had completely turned into laughter by now. After receiving the candy, she didn't rush to open it but leaned over to Lynn's left cheek and gave a loud "muah." It's worth noting that Lynn's face hadn't been washed for at least four days, and his sparse beard was quite prickly. Lynn himself didn't want to touch it.
Although this small kiss couldn't completely dispel the oppression and heaviness in Lynn's heart, at least at this moment, he found a new spiritual support, and his body and mind became much lighter. Putting on his dirty woolen gloves again, he picked up the suitcase and stood up, moving forward with an unprecedented lightness in his steps.
The old man and the woman didn't say much either, silently following Lynn with their respective luggage. Accompanied by the heavy sound of the carriage and occasional painful groans, the group of nearly a hundred people slowly moved along the winding dirt road. If they maintained this speed throughout the journey, it would take them just a day to reach Konigsberg, forty kilometers away, but Lynn wasn't that optimistic. He knew that the physical endurance of the elderly, weak, and women was utterly unreliable. Stopping and resting along the way was inevitable. During the day, they had to guard against Soviet air raids, and at night, they had to be careful of freezing, slipping, and losing their way. It was inevitable that Lynn would worry and tire along the way. Trying to take care of so many people on his own was also unrealistic. Lynn quickly made up his mind: the old man at the bookstore had been kind to him, the little girl seemed fated to be with him, whether publicly or privately, he should take care of this family. As for the others in the group, whoever could help would help, and if there was no way, they would have to leave it to God's arrangement.
The journey began in the late afternoon, and winter dusk came early as usual. Before it got dark, the temperature had already dropped noticeably. The little girl, nestled in Lynn's arms with the candy in her mouth, fell asleep. Lynn almost instinctively unbuttoned his coat; the coat and military uniform were damp and heavy, nowhere near as comfortable as being under the covers, but their body heat slowly created a small warm space. The warmth from his chest made Lynn's heart, which had been covered in ice armor, feel a surge of warmth.
They continued walking like this for two hours straight until the leading sergeant finally turned around and ordered a "fifteen-minute rest on the spot." Compared to the experiences of the past two days, this journey was quite easy, and Lynn didn't feel particularly tired. But the civilians around him were relieved as if they had been granted amnesty, panting and rubbing their backs as they walked to the side of the road to rest. Lynn turned to look at the old man from the bookstore and the woman. Although they weren't completely exhausted, judging from the old man's whitened face and the woman's staggering steps, their physical condition wasn't great.
Putting down his bag, the woman approached, intending to take the little girl from Lynn's arms. Lynn knew she wanted to help him lighten the load, but the little girl was sleeping soundly—this might be the first good sleep she had had in days. So, he shook his head gently at the woman and made a shushing gesture with his right index finger in front of his lips.
The woman was somewhat surprised but didn't insist. Instead, she stood in front of Lynn and leaned over to look at the little girl in his arms. Seeing her daughter's rosy complexion, occasional movements of her mouth, she finally relaxed. She brushed her hair back over her ear, inadvertently moving the shawl back about an inch. This movement was as natural as walking from the rain outdoors into a room, and a delicate and beautiful face, along with a clean forehead, appeared under the faint moonlight.
She didn't possess a stunning appearance, but tiredness, sadness, and helplessness were clearly written on her face, without any disguise or concealment, just like a lotus emerging from the water, presenting its true colors.
For the past few days, all of Lynn's masculine hormones had been spent on survival and killing. With no immediate threat to life, facing such a young and lonely opposite sex, he suddenly felt a bit confused...