After about half an hour, I finally climbed through the window of the upstairs apartment.

Through the glass, I saw a child lying on his mother's body, with his emaciated younger brother next to them.

I knocked on the window, and he stared at me with his bloodshot eyes.

However, there was no response.

I struggled to lift his father's backpack with my injured arm.

Only then did he open the window and let me in.

A woman lay on the floor, her thighs covered in blood, and the wrapped wound was sunken.

She stared with wide eyes—lifeless.

I closed her eyes and emptied the contents of the backpack by her side.

【Gulu gulu】Cans of powdered milk rolled next to the starved infant, and the white cans contrasted with the emaciated baby's blackish-yellow skin and bones.

He never believed his youngest son had starved to death.

Perhaps on that piece of paper, it was written, "Save the three of them."

【Clang】The sound of the child opening the milk can snapped me back to reality.

A sharp aluminum strip cut his hand.

I struggled to regain my rarely used voice.

"Let me help you..."

I was about to open the milk can in his hand.

But the child held onto it tightly and stared at me fiercely, like a protective wolf guarding its food.

I sighed silently, let go of my hand, and advised:

"There's plenty left, take your time, don't hurt yourself."

He finally opened the can, first grabbing a handful of powdered milk and putting it in his younger brother's mouth, then another handful in his mother's mouth.

Finally, he sat aside and grabbed handful after handful of powdered milk, stuffing it into his own mouth.

I handed him a cup of water, and his belly swelled up from drinking.