The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power (by Emily Reed) novel Chapter 193

Chapter 193 A Beggar’s Rules for Survival

Cindy’s POV:

I looked at him in confusion. “What is it, Astra? He’s so pitiful…”

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He released my hand at once, crouched down, dipped his finger into a cup of tea, and quickly sketched simple figures on the stone step.

He drew a circle to represent a silver coin. Then he drew a fierce-looking adult holding a stick, beating a small figure clutching that coin.

When he finished, he pointed at the old beggar, then at the invisible “mastermind” behind him, shaking his head at me again with a desperate insistence.

I froze.

A chill shot up from my feet straight to the crown of my head.

I understood.

He was telling me we couldn’t give money.

If we handed the old beggar a silver coin, the gang enforcers or handlers hiding nearby would rush out the moment we left and seize it. Worse still, if the beggar were accused of hiding money or failing to hand over enough, he would be beaten severely.

In this dark chain of exploitation, charity often became the very reason victims were punished.

This was survival knowledge Astra had paid for with three years of blood and tears.

I stared at the silver coin in my palm. It felt unbearably heavy, scorching hot to the touch.

“Then… what should we do?” I crouched down and asked softly.

Astra stood up, ran back into the restaurant, and pointed at several large loaves of bread and half a rack of ribs still left on the table.

Prince Adam understood immediately.

“Pack it all up,” he told the server. “Everything.”

With the bundle of food in his arms, Astra walked over to the old beggar himself.

He didn’t hand it over right away. Instead, he scanned the surroundings cautiously, making sure no suspicious figures were watching. Only then did he swiftly shove the food into the old man’s arms and give him a firm push, urging him to hide and eat it quickly, or run.

After that, Astra hurried back to my side and clutched my hand tightly

I looked at him.

1/2

15:28 Wed, Jan 21 MG.

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Chapter 193 A Beggar’s Rules for Survival

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An eight-year-old child who had lived in hell for three years, yet still carried a soft and kind heart.

And yet he was so clear-eyed, painfully so.

That night.

Before going to bed, Astra lay on the table and wrote for a long time.

Then he solemnly handed the note to me.

I unfolded it. There were only two lines, written in neat but childish handwriting

“Adam is a good person. He is good to me too.

“I have to be good to Adam so he will be good to Aunt Cindy. Then Aunt Cindy won’t cry.”

When I read those words, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I covered my mouth and broke down in tears.

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