The air in the mine seemed to be always turbid, with tiny drops of water seeping out of the wet rock walls and dripping onto the dirty ground. The dull sound of tool collisions, gasps and painful whispers intertwined, almost filling the entire space. Caesar's figure merged with the working children, and the dust and sweat on his body had long blurred the difference between him and them. Deep in the mine, there seemed to be some kind of darkness that could never dissipate. It was the heavy labor, the oppressive atmosphere, and the hopelessness of the future, which cast a dead silence.
Caesar was in the corner of the mine, with his head down, his eyes swept around calmly. The pick in his hand made a dull sound of impact on the rock. His movements were cautious and steady, deliberately slowing down, as if there was no power flowing in his body. He seemed to be just an ordinary slave, silently doing his job. Most of the children around him were thin and had empty eyes. Only when they were occasionally full of fantasies about the outside world would they reveal a faint glow.
The children around didn't seem to care about Caesar's actions. They were still busy doing repetitive work. Many people had sallow complexions and were skinny. Sweat and dirt mixed together and penetrated every inch of their skin. Behind each child, there were endless scars, and some didn't even have the strength to stand up straight. But even so, they still persisted, still working in the darkness of the mine, for the meager food and hope of survival that was almost meaningless.
Caesar didn't react too much, but just continued to work silently, looking down from time to time to check the situation of the children around him. A thin girl leaned against a rock and panted. Her arms were swollen due to long-term labor, her lips were pale, and she could hardly support the weight of her body. She looked sick, and the pick in her hand seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, but she still swung it hard, even though every swing seemed to be fighting against the air.
"Emma, stop working and take a break." A childish voice came from another little boy. He looked at Emma's body that could no longer support, his eyes full of worry. "Emma, you will die if you continue like this."
Emma did not answer, she just shook her head, there were no tears in her eyes, only endless fatigue and despair. "I can't stop, the supervisor said, if I stop, I will be whipped..." Her voice was intermittent, with obvious unstable breath, but she still gritted her teeth and persisted, like a numb machine.
Caesar looked at this scene, and there was no fluctuation in his heart. He just lowered his head and continued to hit the rock hard. However, his eyes never left Emma, the thin girl. Every time she tried to raise her head, it seemed so difficult, like a candle in the wind that could fall at any time. But she still didn't stop. Although the scars on her body had long made her unbearable, there was no sign of giving up in her eyes.
After a while, the voice of the supervisor came from the depths of the mine. He whipped several miners with a whip. The sound was loud, mixed with the low roars and painful wails of the slaves. Caesar looked up and saw the overseer standing by, holding a whip in his hand, staring at the children who had made mistakes with a smug look. He whipped a boy's back hard, and there was a crisp "snap" sound, followed by the boy's scream of pain.
"If you dare to be lazy again, I will break your legs!" the overseer shouted, with vicious eyes.
Although the children were trembling with fear, they still did not stop their work. Caesar's eyes fell calmly on the boy. He did not move, but just watched silently. The overseer's eyes swept over the slaves around him, and his eyes inadvertently stopped on Caesar, with a smug sneer on his face.
"You, don't be lazy." The overseer's voice was not loud, but it was oppressive, so that everyone present did not dare to look up.
Caesar remained silent, he lowered his head, and continued to hit the rock with the pickaxe, without any reaction. Although the children around were scared, they didn't dare to say anything more when they saw Caesar still keeping his head down.
However, not long after, Caesar felt the change in the air around him. Suddenly, a force that could not be ignored was transmitted to his back. Emma's thin figure quietly approached, holding a piece of rag in her hand, her face pale but still firm. She said to Caesar in a very small voice: "You... do you need food too?" There was no fear in her eyes, only a pure kindness, and even a faint fantasy about the future.
Caesar didn't say anything, he just stared at Emma quietly. The girl's voice was so light that it seemed to be swallowed by the darkness of the mine, but Caesar heard it clearly. He looked at her thin figure, her small hands with distinct joints tightly holding the rag, which was just a little dry and hard white dough, but she regarded it as a treasure. Her face was as pale as paper, and there was fatigue in her eyes, but she flashed a stubborn light, as if this weak giving could temporarily ignite a ray of light in the endless darkness. Caesar took it slowly, lowered his head and took a bite, saying nothing, only responding with a calm nod. Emma was obviously relieved, and stood back in place as if she had completed a mission, continuing to swing the pick with trembling hands.
However, this scene did not escape the eyes of the overseer. The sound of the whip in the distance suddenly stopped, and the footsteps approached slowly with the heavy knocks of iron boots. The overseer's twisted face looked even more hideous in the flickering firelight. The whip in his hand hung on the ground, and it seemed that there were still traces of slaves' flesh and blood. Emma's body froze, her face became paler, and the pick in her hand almost slipped. When the overseer approached, a smile of contempt and mockery appeared on his face, and the whip was slowly raised. He stared at Emma viciously, as if waiting for her to beg for mercy.
"Who do you think you are? Dare to be lazy and share food privately?" His voice was sharp and harsh, and every word was like an iron hook piercing the children's hearts. Emma shrank back and tried to explain, but no sound came out of her throat. The supervisor didn't listen at all. He whipped down with an angry roar, "How can these bastards get the right to share things!" The whip cut through the air and hit Emma's back hard. She groaned, staggered and fell to the ground, her small body curled up into a ball, and her tattered clothes were instantly soaked with blood.
The children around stopped their work, but no one dared to step forward. Their eyes were full of fear, and some secretly covered their mouths to suppress the sobs that were about to come out. A slightly older boy wanted to rush forward, but was grabbed by the old man next to him. The old man's face was full of wrinkles, his eyes were complicated and helpless, and he seemed to be suppressing his anger and despair. He whispered hoarsely, "Don't go, child, you will only be beaten like her, or even worse."
Emma struggled to get up on the ground, but as soon as she raised her body a little, she was kicked over by the supervisor again. His boots were rough and hard, and even made a dull sound when he kicked her abdomen. Emma curled up in pain, but still did not cry out. She just curled up with all her strength to protect her head, struggling like a little beast in despair. The supervisor waved the whip again, and the whistling whip sound seemed to echo in the air.
Caesar still lowered his head, as if he didn't see anything in front of him at all. His movements were calm and regular, and the pickaxe made a dull sound on the rock wall, as if it was integrated with the mine. But the children around Emma finally couldn't help it. A little boy who looked only seven or eight years old moved his feet stealthily, trying to get closer to Emma, but was pulled hard by an older girl next to him. "Lor, don't go over there!" The girl's voice trembled slightly, but she was terribly determined. The little boy gritted his teeth, his eyes full of anger and unwillingness, and finally retreated to where he was, clenching his fists tightly, and his knuckles turned white due to excessive force.
The supervisor seemed to enjoy these looks. He swung the whip wantonly, and every blow was malicious. He looked at Emma's thin body that was almost torn apart by the whip, and the smile on his face became more and more distorted. He kicked the girl on the ground with his boots and issued a cold order: "Why don't you get up and work? Don't want to eat, right?!"
Emma moved her body with difficulty, but was obviously unable to stand up. The supervisor was about to kick her again, but was interrupted by a hoarse voice: "Enough!" The voice came from an old miner not far away. His figure was hunched, his back was full of heavy scars, and his hands were deformed and covered with cracks due to long-term labor. The supervisor turned his head, his eyes were as sharp as a hawk, staring at the old man with disdain and sneer: "Old man, do you want to be beaten?"
The old man was silent for a moment, lowered his head and continued to work, but did not say another word. His eyes flashed, it was a kind of pain that could not be concealed, but more of it was the complete despair of this hellish mine. His back was like the thousands of bent spines in the mine, only more vicissitudes. He knew that he had no power to change anything, and he was not even qualified to stand up for these children.
The children's eyes were focused on Caesar again. They seemed to subconsciously think that this silent big man would do something. Emma sobbed softly, her lips trembling, and tried to get up from the ground, but failed again and again. The supervisor waved his whip, spat, snorted, and turned to walk deep into another mine. After a while, the air in the mine became quiet again, with only the sound of dripping water and occasional low coughs coming from the rock wall.
Caesar did not stop working, his movements were still steady and mechanical. He did not look at Emma, nor did he cast a glance at others. The child who tried to get close to Emma finally couldn't help running over, helped her up from the ground, and wiped the blood off her face with his sleeve. Emma smiled weakly and murmured, "Thank you, Lor.
Lor gritted his teeth and nodded, his eyes were red, but he didn't cry. He helped Emma to the side, and the backs of the two children looked fragile and helpless in the firelight.
Soon they walked to a corner and sat down. The mine was still filled with ore dust and the damp smell of decay. The faint light of the torch swayed on the stone wall. Emma curled up in a corner of the mine, her face was as pale as paper, and her tattered clothes were soaked with blood. She tried to hide her pain and whispered something to Lor beside her. Lor carefully wiped her wounds while constantly looking back and looking around vigilantly, fearing that the supervisor would appear again.
"Sister Emma, are you in a lot of pain? "Lor's voice trembled slightly, and his thin fingers were already covered with calluses due to long-term labor. He tried his best to move gently, but still hurt Emma. Emma shook her head, showing a weak but forced smile, and whispered: "It's okay, I'm not that easily defeated. Don't worry, when we can get out one day, we can live a good life. "Her voice was weak, but full of a sad persistence, as if the impossible freedom was right in front of him.
Caesar sat on the other side of the mine, still holding the pick in his hand, staring expressionlessly at the veins embedded in the wall. His presence seemed to be hidden in the deep darkness, silent and invisible. His clothes were also covered with dirt, and his face was covered with sweat and ore dust, no different from the exhausted slaves around him. Only his occasional eyes revealed a little imperceptible clarity. He slowly reached his hand into his pocket, touched a small piece of crystal with his fingertips, and secretly sensed the pain lingering in Emma's thin body. No one noticed his inadvertent movement, not even the old man sitting not far away. She just hung her head tiredly, chewing a piece of moldy bread quietly with her cracked lips.
Emma's moan was inaudible, but Caesar caught it clearly. His fingers trembled slightly, and a warm light seeped into the air along his fingertips, disappearing into the invisible, silently enveloping Emma's body. Emma's body, which was originally tense due to pain, gradually relaxed, her forehead no longer oozing cold sweat, and even the originally red whip wounds healed quietly under the cover of clothes. Emma didn't notice all this, she just felt an inexplicable warmth, like a gentle river brushing across her body, which made her tired heart a little calmer. Lor was still busy tidying up her clothes, and whispered, "Don't get close to them in the future, okay? We just need to get through today. "
Emma nodded gently, turned her head slightly and glanced at Caesar not far away. He still sat there without saying a word, with the pickaxe in his hand flat on his knees, his eyes seemed to be looking at somewhere on the wall, but he seemed to be in a daze. Emma whispered to him: "He looks indifferent, but... I don't think he is a bad person." Lor frowned and glanced at Caesar, whispering: "Maybe, he never talks to anyone, maybe he just doesn't want to cause trouble."
The fire flickered, and the dust in the air was lifted by the weak movements of the crowd, like a layer of gauze covering the entire mine. Several children gathered secretly, some squatting on the ground and drawing rough patterns, and some trying to separate some mineral powder from a piece of rubble and give it to the supervisor in exchange for a sip of water. A boy slightly older than Lor walked towards Caesar bravely, with a few shallow whip marks on his body, but his face was full of curiosity that was unique to children.
"Hey, what's your name? "The boy's voice was low, but it was still abrupt in the silence. He walked in front of Caesar and looked up at the tall man, his eyes full of vigilance and a little bit of subtle awe. Caesar looked down at him, as if he was thinking about this question seriously, and then slowly said a name, "Caesar." The voice was plain, but there was a kind of reassuring stability.
The boy scratched his head, obviously he had never heard of this name, but he quickly asked: "Were you a slave before? It doesn't look like it. You are so strong, how could you be caught here?" Caesar did not answer, but just raised the corner of his mouth slightly, revealing a very faint smile. He picked up the pickaxe, knocked on the rock wall casually, and continued to dig without looking at the boy again.
The boy seemed to be blocked by this indifference, but he was unwilling. He scratched his hair, turned back to the children, and muttered in a low voice: "What a strange person." Another boy came up to him and asked: "Did he say anything? "The boy curled his lips, "He just said a name, and then ignored me. He must be a weirdo." Emma heard their conversation, looked up at Caesar, with a little bit of searching light in her eyes, but said nothing.
A few roars came from the depths of the mine, and the footsteps of the supervisor gradually approached. The children immediately scattered and returned to their positions to continue working. The old man was still hunched over, and the movements of his hands were mechanical and slow, like a machine that was about to be scrapped. From time to time, he glanced at the children, and complex emotions flashed in his eyes, as if he was regretful, and as if he was helpless. He coughed a few times in a low voice, his voice hoarse and hollow, but it did not attract any attention.
Caesar stood up silently, holding the pick in his hand, and casually knocked on the veins embedded in the rock wall. The firelight cast a heavy shadow on his figure, covering his movements secretly and naturally. He glanced at the corner of his eye Emma was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, and her breathing gradually became steady. Jack and several other children surrounded her, as if trying to shield her from the cold with their thin bodies.
The entire mine fell into a temporary peace, but in this lifeless darkness, Emma's gentle breathing and the children's whispers made people feel an inexplicable pain in their hearts. Caesar retracted his gaze, his movements were still steady, but it was obvious that his attention was not on these ores from the beginning.
Not far away, on the other side, those skinny old men gathered on the other side of the mine, moving as slowly as rusty machines. Their backs had long been bent, their hands had been worn like dead wood by the years, and they had very little strength to hold the pickaxe. Every swing was reluctant, as if they were going to fall down in the next second. Caesar approached silently, put down the pickaxe in his hand, sat not far from them, leaned against the stone wall, seemed to be taking a nap, but his eyes swept over these old people calmly.
An old man with a gray beard slowly moved to Caesar's side, wiped his dirty forehead, and said with fatigue and a reluctant smile: "Young man, you look like you haven't been here for long, right?" His voice was low and hoarse, and every word seemed to take a lot of effort. Caesar turned his head slowly, his eyes fell on the old man's face, and he didn't answer immediately, but just nodded slightly as a response. The old man sighed, pinched a piece of rag between his fingers, and unconsciously wiped the dirt on his palm, but he couldn't wipe it clean. He whispered, "I was here when I was about your age... the mines, a place where people are eaten without leaving any bones."
Another skinny old man coughed and slowly took over the conversation: "I still remember when I was a child, when I was first captured, I thought I could still make it out, but later I found out that this place is a pit that swallows up hope." His eyes drifted to an unknown distance, as if recalling something, "Some people say that the bread outside is soft, and even wine can be drunk in buckets... I have lived for most of my life and have never seen a single one. I really don't know if these things really exist or are lies."
The firelight illuminated their faces, and every wrinkle seemed to be deeper, like cracks carved on rocks, heavy and desperate. Caesar stared at them, still silent, only the slight fluctuation in his eyes made people feel that he was not indifferent to these words. The old people did not expect his answer, perhaps because they were used to talking to each other, or perhaps they caught the only remaining listener in this dead environment, and their voices continued intermittently.
"I still remember my father, who was also trapped here and died of exhaustion." An old man who was hunched almost to the ground said hoarsely, with dry despair in his voice, "I was young and could do nothing. I could only watch. Later I realized that it was a fluke to be able to live here for a day. What's the meaning of living? It's just waiting to die." As he said, he grinned with cracked lips, revealing a toothless smile, which was cold and numb.
"Don't say that." The old man who spoke first waved his hand gently, with a hint of inexplicable persistence in his tone, "One day it will be better, one day someone will rescue us out." His words attracted a low laugh, and an old man supported his knees with his elbows and whispered, "It's been decades, and this dream is better than having a good dream and having a full meal."
Caesar lowered his head slightly, and his fingers gently touched the ore dust on the ground, as if he was fiddling with it casually, or thinking about something. His movements were so gentle that almost no one noticed, but his calm aura made the old people unconsciously quiet down. Perhaps it was because he listened attentively, or perhaps it was because his calmness made people feel at ease.
The shadow of the firelight danced on the faces of the old people, and they gradually spoke less and less, replaced by silence. Someone coughed a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but finally closed his mouth, leaving only the faint panting in his chest and the knocking sounds from deep in the mine. Caesar cast his eyes on the old man who spoke first. The other party noticed his gaze and grinned, revealing a few relatively complete teeth, "Do you think we old guys are long-winded? It doesn't matter, young man, it doesn't matter if you don't understand, you will know it after a long time."
Caesar still didn't speak, but just nodded slightly. He took out a piece of dough that was as dry as a stone from his waist and handed it to the other party. The old man was stunned for a moment, then shook his head and refused: "You keep it for yourself, the old man can't eat it anymore." Caesar did not withdraw his hand, his movements were neither hurried nor slow, but obviously with an irresistible persistence. The old man sighed, and finally took the dough, took a bite carefully, chewing very slowly, as if chewing the last taste of life.
The fire gradually dimmed, and the old people fell into tired silence again. Some people leaned against the corner to take a nap, and some continued to knock on the rock wall mechanically, making a low echo. This cold mine cave was like a giant beast, gnawing their lives bit by bit, and even the painful struggle seemed insignificant. And Caesar always sat there quietly, his eyes swept across those wrinkled and tired faces, as if he was looking at an old scroll. The smell of mine dust floated in the air, and he reached out and gently picked up a grain of dust, as if sensing every struggle and silence in this darkness.
The old man closed his eyes and murmured, "Maybe those things really exist, maybe I will never see them." His voice was so low that it was almost inaudible, but it slowly drifted away in the firelight and blended into the dead silence of the darkness, like a faint sigh. Caesar lowered his eyes and tapped the stone wall with his fingers. He did not answer, nor did he make any extra movements. It was just that the breath on his body seemed to be heavier at this moment, as if he silently took on some invisible burden.
Soon after, he chose to sleep. Although he did not need to rest, it was obviously time for everyone to sleep. It was obviously not good for him to start mining at this time, as it would disturb others.
_____
The second day did not take long to arrive. The weak flickering of the firelight made every young face look even paler. Their eyes were innocent but tired, and every child was covered with scars. Some had rags wrapped around their arms, and the blood underneath had not yet completely dried; some had bruises on their waists that were faintly visible through the thin cloth; and some had a limp on one foot, limping as they walked, but still forced themselves to move the pickaxe to avoid being whipped by the supervisor.
Caesar stood quietly in a corner of the mine, holding the rough handle of the pickaxe with both hands, his movements were slow but not clumsy. Not far from him, Emma was carefully wiping her palms, with cracked wounds all over her knuckles, and the mixture of dirt and blood made her originally thin little hands look even more miserable. She glanced at Caesar, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just pursed her lips and continued to lower her head to do the things in her hands. On the side, Lor's body was as thin as a branch, but he always had an inappropriate smile. He used the pickaxe to knock on the rock wall, making a scattered and weak sound, but there was a little light in his eyes.
"Hey, look." Lor whispered to Emma, and opened his palm, which contained a small piece of silver ore. He raised it excitedly, "Do you think this can be exchanged for something to eat?" Emma looked up, a hint of hesitation flashed across her face, and then whispered, "Be careful, don't let them see it." Her eyes quickly swept around and stopped on Caesar for a moment, as if to remind him to pay attention.
Caesar did not respond, but continued to swing the pickaxe in his hand quietly. His movements were neither hurried nor slow, but the strength was just right, and each blow could accurately knock off a complete piece of ore. His silence seemed to reassure the children, and before they knew it, they gradually gathered around him and began to talk in a low voice. Lor kicked the ground with his toes and whispered, "Hey, big guy, have you seen anything outside before? Last time I asked you, you didn't tell me." There was innocent curiosity in his tone, and he didn't even hide the expectation in his voice.
Emma gently pulled Lor's clothes, signaling him not to ask more questions, but Lor ignored it. He continued to stare at Caesar, his eyes full of a desire for the unknown. Another child, this time the thinner Pedro, added in a low voice: "Don't ask, the outside world has nothing to do with us... No matter how beautiful it is, we can't get out." His words were like a basin of cold water poured into the fire, making everyone quiet for a moment.
Lor frowned and muttered in a low voice: "There will always be a way. If I can get out, I must..." His voice paused, as if he was thinking, "I want to raise a big dog, like those nobles. It can protect me." Pedro snorted coldly and shook his head, but did not refute it. Emma raised her head, looked at Caesar, and whispered, "What about you? What would you like to do?"
Caesar's eyes swept over every child and finally fell on Emma's face. He did not answer, but reached out his hand, picked up a piece of ore from the rubble beside him, and handed it to Emma. Emma was stunned for a moment, looked up at him, and her big eyes were full of confusion. Caesar just smiled and still didn't speak.
At this time, a slightly older boy, about fourteen or fifteen years old, named Andre, leaned against his side, holding his ribs. His face was yellow, obviously suffering from long-term malnutrition and chronic diseases. He looked at Caesar, glanced at the children, and whispered, "Don't dream, this place can only wait to die. What can you do if you share an ore? In the end, you still have to hand it in." His voice was indifferent and tired, but mixed with a trace of sourness that could not be concealed.
Lor glared at Andre unconvinced, and was about to refute, but suddenly heard a crisp whip. An overseer walked towards them impatiently, casually slamming the whip in his hand on the ground, raising a cloud of dust. "What are you all dawdling about? Hurry up and work!" He glared at them, and whipped the whip in his hand towards Lor, who was closest to him. Lor was startled and instinctively blocked it with his arm. The tip of the whip scratched his skin, leaving a bloody mark in an instant.
Emma immediately rushed over to support Lor, whispering to comfort him, her eyes full of panic. The overseer's eyes swept over Caesar and sneered: "You too, don't be lazy, otherwise you will be in trouble." As he said, he raised the whip and pretended to swing it at Caesar. However, just when the whip was about to fall, he suddenly stopped and frowned, as if he felt something wrong, but he couldn't tell.
Caesar lowered his eyes, his expression still calm. He slowly raised the pick in his hand and continued to knock on the rock wall, as if nothing had happened. The overseer stared at him for a few seconds, finally cursed, and turned away. Emma held Lor's arm, gently wiped off the blood, and whispered, "Are you okay?" Lor gritted his teeth and shook his head, but tears were faintly in his eyes.
Caesar's eyes swept over Lor's wound. He bent down, picked up a piece of cloth from the ground, and handed it to Emma. Emma took the cloth, looked up and gave Caesar a faint smile: "Thank you." Her voice was as low as a gust of wind, and then she continued to concentrate on taking care of Lor.
Emma huddled beside a pile of rubble, carefully bandaging Lor's arm with her thin fingers, her movements were as light as handling fragile glass. There was a thin layer of dust on her cheeks, but her eyes were still clear and focused. Lor bit a piece of rag in his mouth, trying not to make a sound, but the tears in the corners of his eyes revealed the fact of pain.
Caesar sat not far away, holding a pick in his hand, and his lowered eyes showed no emotion. His silence was like an invisible barrier, allowing the children to find a rare sense of security around him. Emma looked up at him from time to time, as if she wanted to say something, but lowered her head hesitantly.
"Hey, Caesar." Emma finally spoke, her voice so soft that it was almost swallowed by the echo of the cave. She didn't look up, her fingers were still moving, but there was a hint of tentativeness in her tone, "You came from outside before... right?" Although she had asked several times, she still wanted to confirm it. Her words made Lor next to her prick up her ears, and although he was still biting the cloth in his mouth, he couldn't help but make a vague sound.
Caesar didn't answer immediately, he just slowly put down the pickaxe in his hand and looked up at them. His eyes were not threatening or secretive, just a calm gaze, as if he was weighing how to respond to this question. After a moment of silence, he nodded: "Yes."
Emma's eyes lit up, like a ray of light that flashed accidentally in the depths of the mine. "Then... what is it like outside?" There was a cautious expectation in her voice, as if she was afraid of hearing an answer that contradicted her fantasy.
Caesar did not answer immediately, but looked at Emma's expectant eyes. His eyes swept over her thin shoulders and bruised fingers, and finally fell back on her face. He did not weave a false beautiful picture, but whispered: "It's big, very bright, and there are many things you haven't seen."
Emma seemed to be fascinated by what she heard. She stopped what she was doing, and her eyes drifted away. "Big and bright..." She murmured and repeated, as if piecing together a picture in her mind. "Is it... there is also a sea? And those beautiful birds? I heard from the old man that the water in the sea is salty, and the feathers of birds have many colors, like a rainbow." Her voice gradually became excited and her speech speed became a few points faster.
Caesar nodded slightly, and a gentle smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, there is a sea, and there are also birds like rainbows." He didn't say much, but Emma was already immersed in her imagination, with a glimmer in her eyes, as if that piece of free world was not far away.
"I want to go out and see." Emma suddenly whispered, with an unexpected firmness in her tone. She looked down at her palms, the scars and calluses on the palms were clearly visible, "Even if it's just a glance, I want to know what it's like outside."
Caesar stared at her without responding, but the look in his eyes became deeper. Lor whimpered beside him, as if he was agreeing with Emma, but because he was still biting the cloth in his mouth, he couldn't hear what he said clearly. Emma turned her head and smiled faintly at Lor, then looked at Caesar again, "What about you? Do you want to go back outside?"
Caesar remained silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head, "Not now." His tone was calm and firm, like an unshakable rock.
Emma tilted her head in confusion, but didn't ask any more questions. She seemed to understand that this silent and powerful man must have his own reasons. She lowered her head again and continued to bandage Lor's wound, but she still murmured unconsciously: "One day, I will get out."
There was a brief silence in the air, with only the firelight dancing, and occasionally the footsteps of the supervisor in the distance and the echo of the pickaxe hitting the rock wall could be heard. Caesar sat there, watching the two children, and a trace of imperceptible emotion flashed in his calm eyes. He didn't say anything else, but stood up quietly, picked up the pickaxe, walked deeper into the mine, and continued to wave the tool in his hand. Emma looked up at his steady and reliable back, with a trace of admiration in her eyes, and then whispered to Lor: "He must be a very powerful person, right?"
Lor nodded, but didn't say much. They continued to guard that little fantasy, as if it was the only pillar that supported them to continue living.
After the two children finished bandaging their wounds, they sat on a flat rock, and the faint firelight reflected their thin faces. Emma's eyes were still bright. She carefully took out a piece of hard bread that she had warmed with her hands from the rags, tore off a small piece and handed it to Lor, saying softly, "Eat it, you haven't eaten for a day."
Lor took the bread, but did not bite it immediately. Instead, he held it in his palm, as if holding a treasure. He raised his head, stole a glance at the supervisor standing guard not far away, and then looked at Caesar, and whispered, "Brother Caesar, why do you always eat so little? Did you give it all to us?"
Caesar paused in swinging the pickaxe, but did not turn back. His voice was very flat: "I'm not hungry, you guys eat it." Emma raised her head, as if she wanted to say something, but was afraid of attracting the attention of the supervisor, so she had to lower her head and continue to nibble on the hard bread. Lor's lips moved, as if he wanted to say "We can give you some", but in the end he didn't say it.
Not far away, two supervisors were leaning against each other smoking low-quality tobacco. One of them was holding a thin iron rod in his hand, and from time to time he knocked the ground with the tip of the rod, making a dull sound. They talked and laughed in low voices, their words were full of vulgarity and indifference. An overseer kicked an old miner who was kneeling next to him. The old man's back was completely bent, and his hands were almost trembling as he dug the ore in front of him. "Hurry up, old man! If you don't want to be whipped, work quickly!" The overseer's voice was low and threatening, and he waved the iron rod casually, as if warning.
Emma's eyes fell on the old man involuntarily, and a trace of pity flashed in her eyes. She put down the bread in her hand and whispered to Lor: "We must help them in the future, and we must go out. I think... I don't think people outside are so bad." Lor frowned, as if he wanted to refute, but in the end he just sighed: "I don't know what it's like outside, but here, we can't do anything at all." When he spoke, his voice revealed a kind of fatigue that children of this age should not have.
Just then, an overseer's eyes swept over Emma and Lor, he frowned and walked over. "What are you doing?" His voice was cold, and the sound of his footsteps on the ground was so dull that it made people tremble. Emma hurriedly hid the bread behind her, stood up, and carefully lowered her head and said, "I'm sorry, we...we just..."
"Just what?" The supervisor didn't give her a chance to finish her words, and kicked Lor on the knee with such force that Lor fell to the ground directly. Emma screamed and reached out to help, but the supervisor grabbed her hair and pulled her away forcefully. "Are you lazy? You dare to eat secretly?" His voice became sharp, and he raised the iron rod high, aimed at Emma's shoulder and smashed it hard.
"Don't!" Lor rushed over with all his strength and stretched out his hands to block the iron rod. The heavy force of the rod hit his forearm, making a dull sound. Lor groaned, and his body swayed and fell to the ground, but he still used all his strength to protect Emma.
"Damn you little brat!" The supervisor was enraged by this scene and kicked Lor's back hard. Lor spit out a mouthful of blood, but still used his body to protect Emma. His red eyes were full of stubbornness and anger. Even though he was shaking all over, he did not retreat a step. The supervisor swung the iron rod and smashed it again, hitting Lor's head directly. This time, Lor didn't even groan, and his body collapsed to the ground.
Emma screamed and rushed over to hug Lor's body, but the iron rod did not stop. The supervisor grabbed Emma's hair, pulled her up with force, and hit her back hard with another stick. "If you like to be lazy so much, just die!" He continued to swing the iron rod while cursing, and Emma's body trembled with the blow of the stick until she finally collapsed to the ground powerlessly.
Another supervisor came over and took an impatient look: "That's enough. If all these people die, who will do the work?" His tone was full of indifference, as if the people who died here were just broken tools.
"It's really unlucky." The supervisor wielding the iron rod cursed, kicked Emma's body casually, and turned away after confirming that she had no reaction.
Caesar always stood not far away, holding a mining pick, watching all this calmly and indifferently. His figure disappeared in the shadow of the fire, and no one noticed his slightly clenched fingers and his bottomless eyes. The air was filled with the smell of blood and sulfur, and the cave fell into silence again, leaving only the sound of dripping water and the crackling of weak flames.
Emma's body was not discovered until the next morning. She leaned against Lor's side, her small body curled up into a ball, her face still had traces of undried tears, her body was blue and purple, and Lor next to her was also bloodstained. Lor's hand was still tightly grasping her wrist, as if to protect her from harm. But their bodies were already cold, and the dust covered their wounds and blood so that they were almost invisible.
The children surrounded them, no one dared to make a sound, but just lowered their heads silently, with tears in their eyes. Caesar stood outside the crowd, watching the scene calmly. His hands hung at his sides, and the pickaxe stood quietly at his feet. His expression did not change at all, as if all this had been expected. But his figure became deeper and more elusive in the faint firelight.