The beggar was already standing, his posture hunched and shaky. He wore tattered, dirt-streaked pajamas and a filthy white shirt, now brown with mud and grime.
His hair was long, brittle, and matted, hanging in greasy strands that obscured his face. The dirt-covered man looked as though he had emerged from years of neglect.
Lin Fei studied him carefully, his gaze narrowing. Beneath the grime, the man's age was difficult to determine, though the grey streaks in his hair suggested he was likely in his sixties.
"Are you all right?" Lin Fei asked, his voice calm but laced with a tinge of concern.
The beggar slowly raised his head, revealing a pair of sharp, weary eyes beneath the curtain of unkempt hair.
Lin Fei pinched his nose and approached the beggar. "Are you alright, sir?"
The beggar glanced around, his eyes unfocused, as though he were in a daze.
