Noticing this, Fatty saw that the always shrewd Doctor was unusually silent. He took the money, stepped back, and bowed slightly to the owner, "Sorry to bother you."

　　"Humph!" The owner glared at them coldly, as if worried they would try to steal the steamed buns. He stood next to the steamer, clutching a rolling pin.

　　As Jiang Cheng and the others left and walked away, he spat at their backs. "Ptooey, what trash!" the owner cursed.

　　Jiang Cheng and his group encountered the same thing three times in a row.

　　The last time, the hot-tempered owner even rallied several strong men from the kitchen, and the two groups almost came to blows.

　　Left with no choice, Jiang Cheng and the others detoured to another street. Not daring to mention the Japanese, they directly bought dozens of steamed buns.

　　This time, the owner was very enthusiastic. He even gave them a cloth bag to carry the buns and reminded them to eat them while they were hot, as they wouldn't taste as good cold.

　　The owner was an honest middle-aged man with a hunched back and a soft voice. Just as Jiang Cheng was accepting the bag full of buns, he inadvertently glanced at the owner's trouser leg.

　　Below the right trouser leg, there was no shoe, no foot. The trouser leg was empty, with only a wooden stick protruding.

　　The end of the wooden stick that touched the ground was severely worn, clearly having been used for a long time.

　　Noticing Jiang Cheng's gaze, the owner apologetically pulled his leg back, subconsciously adjusting his trouser leg to cover the exposed wooden stick.

　　"How did this happen?" Jiang Cheng asked, looking up.

　　"Ah, it's just my bad luck. A few years ago, the Japanese came to loot. I was fast asleep and woke up surrounded." The owner sighed and said, "They came to demand grain. We didn't even have enough to eat ourselves, so where could we get grain for them? So..."

　　"Losing a leg is nothing, but it's hateful that they didn't even spare the children and women. My youngest son couldn't escape their search either. They found him in the woodpile, and then... then they just burned him to death..."

　　The middle-aged man had been relatively calm when talking about his leg, but when he mentioned his son, large tears began to fall. Fatty's eyes turned red, and he couldn't help but comfort, "My condolences, boss."

　　The owner wiped away his tears. When he looked up again, the determination in his eyes was startling. "Even though I'm a cripple, I sent my two remaining sons to the resistance army to kill Japanese, to fight them."

　　"Well said, brother!" Zhao Xingguo gave a thumbs up. "Now we've finally won, and we can finally live a good life. I think this shop you run with your two sons is great. Work hard, and everything will be alright!"

　　It was clear that the shop was doing well, with many people coming and going. Behind the owner were two young men, one tall and one short, busy helping him knead dough.

　　Stacks of empty steamer baskets were piled on the side, ready for steaming buns.

　　Hearing this, the owner smiled. "Yes, we've finally won, but it's a pity..." He paused, shook his head, "My two sons can't see it."

　　Fatty's eyes widened, and he looked at the two busy young men behind the owner. Noticing this, the owner gave a carefree smile. "These two children are orphans I adopted. My two sons both died in battle shortly after joining the army."

　　"Their company commander came to see me. He said they were betrayed by a traitor and surrounded. My two sons volunteered to stay behind to cover their comrades' escape."

　　"They fought to the last moment. No one surrendered. When they went back to collect the bodies, they found that every bullet had hit them in the face." The shop owner choked up here, the pride and heartache in his words intertwined, moving everyone.

　　Before leaving, Jiang Cheng paid double the price.

　　The owner initially refused, but then he offered to take them back in his cart, but Jiang Cheng declined.

　　It was easy to imagine that if the owner knew these buns were for the Japanese women, he would probably faint on the spot.

　　In the end, Jiang Cheng's group zigzagged, changed direction, and walked back to the previous street.

　　The Japanese women were gathered together in the same spot. Seeing Jiang Cheng and the others coming, they stood up in unison.

　　Handing over the steamed buns, the woman called Yoko carefully took them. She pulled, but they wouldn't budge.

　　She looked up, her eyes widening, and saw Jiang Cheng staring at her with a cold, icy expression.

　　Yoko's hand trembled, and she instinctively pulled back. Then, as if by reflex, she bowed deeply to Jiang Cheng. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

　　Even though Jiang Cheng hadn't said a word, Yoko clearly understood, understood the suppressed anger in his eyes.

　　Just like the people on this street.

　　"Do you know why it took us so long to come back?" Jiang Cheng asked, holding up the bag of steamed buns. "Do you know how the shop owners treated us when they heard the buns were for you?"

　　Apart from Yoko, the remaining women huddled together, looking at Jiang Cheng and his group with fearful expressions, worried about being hurt.

　　Now they finally understood why Yoko only asked for food but not money.

　　Because money was useless to them. Even if they had money, they couldn't buy food in this Gray Stone Town.

　　Although they were not the main culprits, they were by no means innocent. Once caught in the quagmire of war, no one could remain unscathed.

　　Placing the steamed buns on the ground, Jiang Cheng's group turned and left. "Remember our agreement. If I don't find you when I come back, you know the consequences."

　　Only after Jiang Cheng and the others had walked far away and disappeared around the corner did the women who had been cowering at the back rush forward, fighting over the steamed buns in the cloth bag.

　　Only Yoko remained standing in place, still bowing.

　　On the way back, everyone's mood became heavy. After the war, the entire Gray Stone Town was scarred and desolate, making the magnificent and intact Feng family mansion stand out incongruously.

　　"Young friend, please stop."

　　Hearing someone call from behind, Jiang Cheng and the others turned around. It was a middle-aged woman wearing an apron, probably around 40 years old, with dark skin.

　　"Are you... calling us?" Pi Ruan looked around and then back at the woman.

　　"Yes." The middle-aged woman walked forward, rubbing her hands together, and said apologetically, "My husband was in a bad mood just now. I hope he didn't scare you."

　　After speaking, the woman pointed in a direction. Following her gaze, everyone saw it was the same shop where they had almost fought over buying steamed buns.

　　"Actually, those Japanese women are not that bad. Although the people in town don't like them, they won't actively harm them. Sometimes, when they see how pitiful they are, some people will secretly give them some food while it's dark." The woman sighed, "Otherwise, how could they have survived until now?"

　　"Besides us, there are others who give them food?" Fatty asked curiously.

　　"Yes, it's said that the people from the Feng mansion secretly distribute some food to them while it's dark." The woman said with emotion, "Everyone says Master Feng is kind-hearted and can't bear to see anyone suffer."