Chapter 292: Chapter 302: The Reason for Turning into a 6-Year-Old with a Fever
Kyle Kinston lowered his head, focusing intently on the video, his lightly drooping eyelids obscuring his eyes, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking at that moment.
In the video, after the little girl was rescued, the camera continued to focus mainly on Kyle Kinston. Mabel Quinn also saw herself in the video, rushing over with a face full of tension and worry, checking his injuries and then hugging him.
After the video ended, Kyle Kinston still kept his eyes lowered, as if he was pondering something.
"Where did you see this video?" Mabel Quinn cleared her throat, breaking the silence. The amusement park incident had happened several days ago, and related news in the media had been suppressed. Mabel had not seen this video online before.
"Caleb sent it to me, saying someone recorded it at the time, but it hasn’t been posted online yet," Kyle Kinston said.
That made sense and explained Mabel Quinn’s previous confusion. "You were quite brave back then," she said, speaking from her heart.
"Brave?" He slowly raised his eyelids, his pitch-black phoenix eyes shrouded in mist, becoming somewhat unreal, "Don’t you think rushing in like that was reckless?"
If it were him now, he might have used a hundred different ways to resolve it and wouldn’t have just charged in with a toy gun.
"But at the time, your mindset was that of a six-year-old. For a six-year-old child to think of such a way and to rush in like that, I think it was brave," Mabel said, at least she knew that when she was six, she probably would have been too scared to move.
He lowered his head, playing the video once again. When the camera returned to her rushing to his side, worrying about his injuries, his lips curled into a faint smile, seemingly with a touch of sentiment, yet also with self-mockery, "At that time, I seemed quite happy, but when I was truly six, even if I lay there covered in blood, there probably wouldn’t be anyone who cared about me."
"Don’t think like that, your mother she..."
"She wouldn’t!" he abruptly interrupted her, the self-deprecating tone on his lips growing stronger, "Do you know why when I have a fever, I might act like a six-year-old?"
She shook her head. At this moment, the mist enveloping his phoenix eyes began to dissipate, yet seemed to be stained with a shade of crimson, "Because when I was six, I once got stabbed and injured, lying on the ground, drenched in rain for an entire night. The next day, when I finally crawled back, the first thing my mother said was, ’Why aren’t you dead yet?’ Isn’t it laughable?"
His voice was very low, very deep, and his expression was almost calm, yet you could almost feel the struggle and pain in his words. Before her eyes, it seemed that she could see the small version of him lying covered in blood in the dark rainy night, getting up in his desolate state, taking one step at a time, trembling towards home...
A six-year-old child endured such experiences; just hearing about it was unbelievable.
Even more so, it could be said to be a miracle from heaven that he survived.
She didn’t know how to respond to his words, but instinctively, she raised her hand to touch his head, caressing his hair, wanting to comfort him, "Don’t cry, it’s all in the past..."