But this was also not something a wooden sword could accomplish.
Watching Ikoma and Chu Ying grow day by day, Lin Yu's sense of impending crisis also became more urgent.
The immediate priority was to find a way to get a nichirin blade made of iron.
Lin Yu pondered silently, while returning to the house to change his sweat-soaked clothes.
In a place like this, if one accidentally fell ill, it was almost equivalent to waiting for death; if you couldn't overcome it, there were simply no conditions to treat you.
If you couldn't even afford food, where would you get the money to see a doctor?
In the narrow room of only about ten square meters, Ikoma and Chu Ying were sleeping soundly under a thin, faded, laundered blanket.
On the table were three bowls of clear porridge, almost transparent, which was their breakfast.
As for lunch, the Fujiwara Family would send people to these outer areas every noon to deliver some clear porridge, ensuring most commoners wouldn't starve to death at a minimum; whether they could get it depended on luck and strength.
Eating only two meals a day was also a common state.
After finishing the clear porridge on the table, he woke up the sleeping Ikoma and Chu Ying to eat.
These two little ones were now thirteen and twelve years old, a lively and active age, but this impoverished life had made them quite sensible.
They obediently finished their porridge, without fuss or noise, and went back to bed to sleep.
When you're not full, lying still is the best way to conserve energy, and you won't feel hungry in your sleep.
Watching them fall soundly asleep again, Lin Yu tucked them in, took his wooden sword and his stall tools, pushed open the door, and walked out towards the alley.
Outside the alley was a wide street, but this street was not as bustling as one might imagine; on the contrary, it was very deserted.
Let alone street stalls, there were hardly any pedestrians; the few people present were all walking with unsteady steps, hurrying towards the city wall.
These were commoners rushing to work; their daily wages were paid on the same day, and for commoners, not working for a day meant no food.
Lin Yu walked on this street shrouded in an atmosphere of negativity and despair, his expression as calm as ever, clearly not his first time.
This was essentially the Slums of Sugu Station; such an atmosphere was normal.
Coming out this time was not for aimless wandering, which would be a waste of energy; Lin Yu naturally wouldn't do such a thing.
In the morning, the Slums were almost deserted except for a very few places; it usually only became somewhat lively after the Fujiwara Family came to distribute porridge at noon.
Lin Yu came out early to secure a good stall location in advance, making it convenient to receive porridge and do business at the same time.
As for the nichirin blade, Lin Yu temporarily had to postpone it; it wasn't something that could be obtained in a hurry.
Although this was a chaotic world, with Kabane lurking outside the city, the city's control over such weapons was still very strict.
After all, there were so many people who couldn't get enough to eat; if there were no controls, it would be troublesome for the administrators of various fortress cities.
The only people who could openly carry swords on the street were the Samurai of the Fujiwara Family.
As for attacking a Samurai to steal a sword, Lin Yu wouldn't be so foolish; the class gap between commoners and Samurai was not so easily bridged.
Moreover, in such a dilapidated Slums, individual samurai almost never came, so Lin Yu didn't have this opportunity.
Otherwise, with Lin Yu's current strength, dealing with a lone samurai would naturally not be a problem.
“Tap…tap…tap…”
Lin Yu walked on the street, and the crisp sound of his footsteps drew dark gazes from many rooms.
Not everyone was focused on labor; many were refugees from other fortresses, who had adopted a desperate attitude towards life, quietly staying at home waiting for death.
Every month, the Fujiwara Family's guard squad would carry away countless rotting and stinking corpses from the Slums.
Ignoring these lifeless gazes, Lin Yu walked for another seven or eight minutes, arriving at an intersection that was considered relatively “prosperous” within the Slums.
This was where the Fujiwara Family distributed porridge every day at noon.
Compared to the deserted streets before, there were significantly more people here, and many had the same goal as Lin Yu, setting up stalls.
Finding a slightly cooler and quieter spot, Lin Yu set up his small stall and silently sat on the ground, placing his wooden blade on his knees, closing his eyes, and beginning to meditate quietly.
He claimed to be doing small business, but in fact, Lin Yu had merely stumbled upon some herbs similar to those from his previous life.
In a place like the Slums, where medicine was scarce, these herbs, which could stop bleeding when chewed, were life-saving.
Lin Yu transplanted a few plants to grow at home, and new herbs would appear every so often; although he didn't earn much, it was enough to exchange for a good amount of food.
As time passed, the slightly cool temperature of the morning gradually began to rise.
The warm sunlight streamed diagonally across the rooftops onto the street, feeling cozy on the body.