Two days later, on a lazy afternoon, a group of teenage boys gathered once more on a dirt hill, hiding in the tall grass, their eyes fixed on the refugees below. Their gazes roamed over the crowd, filled with a mix of greedy excitement and a hint of anxiety. Despite knowing the risks, they were drawn to the dangerous thrill.

The youngest, named Retta, suddenly grabbed a fist-sized stone, his eyes gleaming with mischievous excitement. His heart raced, each beat urging him to release his inner impulse. With a grunt, he hurled the stone, which arced through the air with a forceful trajectory. Although it landed in a dry riverbed, kicking up a cloud of dust, it failed to hit anyone. Frustrated, Retta spat on the ground, his face showing a flicker of disappointment.

The other boys watched Retta's attempt, lounging on the hillside with peals of laughter. Beneath their mirth lay hidden tension and unease, but their bold actions made them feel proud.

After a moment, another boy, Carl, decided to outdo Retta."You're so weak, it's laughable. Watch this!" His aim was true, the stone striking a frail child sitting on the ground. Carl felt a rush of pleasure but was soon overwhelmed by guilt as the child silently crumpled. Yet, when the other boys cheered for him, pride swelled within him again. The child's mother cried out, clutching her child and weeping helplessly. The refugees began searching for the culprits as the boys laughed and slipped away down the hillside.

As they hurried down, passing a group of weary refugees resting on the ground, Retta stealthily approached a tired family and silently snatched a bundle. He felt a thrill at his success, though fear of being caught gnawed at him. The tension and excitement filled him with satisfaction.

Suddenly, a young man appeared, blocking their path with anger."Are you brats out of your minds? Everyone's struggling. Give that back!"

The boys sneered, and Retta shrugged nonchalantly."What's it to you?" He made a rude gesture, prompting laughter from the others.

The young man grew more furious."Don't you realize you could be dooming someone, even a whole family?"

Retta smirked."Not our problem," he replied, repeating the gesture and provoking more laughter.

The young man, nearly speechless with rage, said,"Do you plan to live as thieves forever?"

Stolen novel; please report.

"None of your business!" Retta retorted, making the gesture a third time.

The young man turned away, frustrated, glancing at the approaching refugees. He realized these boys might be part of a larger group.

The boys laughed louder, feeling triumphant over their spoils.

---

Mo Wen pulled Little Hong aside. The two of them stared at the pregnant woman's body lying on the riverbank, their expressions cold and unfeeling. It took a great deal of effort, but Mo Wen and Little Hong managed to bury her body in the nearby mud.

Mo Wen grabbed a wooden stick, his eyes sharp as knives, and handed another to Little Hong. Rage burned in his heart as he recognized the boys who had caused the pregnant woman's death. He could no longer tolerate their cruelty and resolved to seek justice for the innocent refugees.

Seeing the adults approaching from a distance, the boys panicked and ran, scattering into a hidden grove. Retta and Carl, however, sat together, excitedly sharing their stolen loot, temporarily oblivious to the surrounding danger.

Letters lay scattered on the ground, trampled and dirtied, their importance lost on the boys in these famine-stricken times. Suddenly, a stick struck Retta's head with brutal force. Mo Wen had attacked without mercy, and Retta collapsed, blood staining his hair. Mo Wen's face was covered with a torn cloth, but his eyes held a steely resolve. Even without law, he sought justice for the refugees.

Carl, stunned and terrified, turned to flee but was quickly tackled by Little Hong. Though Carl was stronger, Little Hong struggled to keep him pinned down. Carl's hands gripped Little Hong's throat, and Little Hong's face turned red, his breathing labored. In the next moment, Mo Wen's stick struck Carl's head, and he crumpled to the ground, no longer able to fight back.

Mo Wen pulled Little Hong to his feet, and they ran as the other boys rushed over. Seeing their fallen companions, they realized the gravity of the situation and fled in fear.

Mo Wen and Little Hong walked silently along the path, heavy-hearted. Little Hong suddenly asked,"Brother, you hit them so hard. I thought you'd just teach them a lesson."

Mo Wen remained silent for a long time."I only know that good begets good, and evil begets evil. I had to seek justice for the pregnant woman."

Little Hong protested,"But they're younger than us. They don't understand yet!"

"But who will seek justice for those they've caused to die?"

"We can barely feed ourselves. How can we bring justice?"

Mo Wen didn't respond. He didn't understand his own impulsive anger.

"Maybe they'll grow up, regret their actions, and change."

"I only send them to meet their maker. Forgiveness is up to him."

Night fell, and a fat woman cradled a boy's corpse, wailing to the heavens,"Who could be so heartless to kill such a kind child? He was just a boy! How could anyone do this?" She cursed everyone she passed with the vilest words.

From a distance, Little Hong glanced at Mo Wen, feeling guilty. Mo Wen scoffed,"We killed the wrong people."

Little Hong's eyes widened."You regret it?"

"No, we killed the wrong people."

Little Hong fell silent, not understanding. He looked at his hands, realizing for the first time the destruction they could cause.