Being carried onto an ambulance at the start? But this is America!

A three-story white building stands on the street corner.

Its design is simple, resembling a tilted right-angled triangular prism with a black cross on top, casting a shadow under the sunlight.

The Methodist Church is a traditional Protestant church, and it is very convenient for them to set up churches in poor neighborhoods to do good deeds.

Compared to the previous filthy and chaotic neighborhood, the streets around the church are noticeably wider and cleaner, with no clusters of tents or people lying on the ground.

Police are now more diligent in managing the areas surrounding these types of church venues.

The distribution of supplies had not yet begun, but a line of twenty or thirty homeless people had already formed under the blue sunshade.

Well-informed and diligent veterans are always the first to arrive.

Li Ping pulled Li Fan to stand silently at the back of the line.

The line was slowly growing longer when several young Black men tried to cut in line, which sparked a small-scale fight and shouting match.

The people around just watched indifferently, while some of the bolder ones took the opportunity to step forward, pick up the bottles and cans that had been thrown by the two sides in the fight, and stuff them into their own pockets.

A can sell for five cents; little by little, it adds up to enough to buy some cheap tobacco or something even worse.

No one dared to cut in line with Li Ping and his brother.

Although Li Ping was somewhat thin, his 1.8-meter height, coupled with the towering figure of Li Fan beside him and his wildly wary eyes, was enough to make most street thugs think twice.

At exactly four o'clock in the afternoon, the side door of the church opened, and six or seven volunteers carried out supplies.

Li Ping immediately spotted the mountain of dark green nylon sleeping bags.

In addition, there were boxes of boxed meals, hot soup in insulated containers, and several baskets of fruit that looked quite fresh.

The aroma of food wafted over, quite unlike the usual odors on the street.

"We made the right choice this time." Li Ping's spirits lifted.

This looks like a proper meal, not some kind of relief food that has been stored for who knows how long.

"Brother, it looks like there's still beef." Li Fan sniffed, his eyes shining.

As the group moved forward slowly, Li Ping began to quietly adjust his breathing and prepare his emotions.

The key to the card hint is: when facing the distributor, Ms. Marina, say "God bless you" in a trembling, sincere voice.

He understood it as feigning helplessness, speaking in a tearful voice, and trying to gain sympathy.

For the sake of any potential additional guidance, this face will have to be put aside for now.

He carefully observed the distribution point.

A slightly plump, gray-haired, bespectacled elderly white woman was gently directing the volunteers, occasionally handing them items with a smile.

That's her, Ms. Marina.

Soon it was Li Ping's turn. He signed his name and said, "Thank God."

A Black female volunteer handed him a dark green nylon package, which felt quite heavy. Inside, it appeared to be a brand-new sleeping bag and a thick towel.

He glanced at the few remaining sleeping bags behind him and felt relieved.

The card's suggestion to queue before 3:30 was indeed accurate; any later and he would have missed out on the sleeping bag.

Li Ping, holding the last few items he had received, stood in front of Ms. Marina.

When I received the heavy lunchbox and warm vegetable soup from her, a sour taste rushed to my nose.

He raised his head and looked into Marina's kind blue-gray eyes, his voice trembling slightly.

The trembling voice was a mixture of a boy's helplessness and a desperate attempt to maintain politeness: "Thank you, Ms. Marina...you remind me of some very warm things."

Then, as if suppressing a sob, he continued, "God bless you."

The old man stopped moving.

She looked closely at Li Ping's young but undeniably haggard face, then shifted her gaze to Li Fan, the tall man behind him who also looked bewildered and helpless.

Tears welled up in her eyes almost instantly.

"Oh...poor child..."

She murmured softly, her voice filled with maternal sorrow, "Are you brothers? So young... how did you end up in a place like this?"

Without saying a word, she stuffed a boxed lunch and a large bag of fresh fruit into Li Ping's arms, which were already full of things.

The Asian brothers in front of her reminded her of the past.

Her late husband, who also had Asian ancestry, and their two radiant mixed-race sons.

All that beauty was shattered years ago on a similarly bright, sunny afternoon by a random gunshot that rang out in the street.

She joined the church and did good deeds to help others, not so much to seek salvation, but to try to pray for the deceased in the process of helping others.

The ages and figures of Li Ping and Li Fan are similar to those of the children she lost.

"Wait, children, wait for me."

She suddenly turned around, not even bothering to continue distributing the supplies, and quickly walked back into the side door of the church.

Li Fan was confused and looked at his brother with a puzzled expression.

Li Ping gave him a wink and stood beside him, signaling him to act pitiful and not to be grinning like an idiot after receiving the gifts.

The other volunteers ignored this.

Ms. Marina was highly respected in the church, and no one would question her good intentions.

A moment later, Ms. Marina returned, clutching a note tightly in her hand.

She slipped the note into Li Ping's hand, grasped his cold fingers with both hands, and looked at him earnestly and urgently:

"Listen to me, children, this is not a place for you."

"If you stay too long, even good children will be corrupted. Go to the underpass on Eighth Avenue and find Adelaide Rowland. Tell him I sent you there."

Fearing they wouldn't be able to find it, she had hastily drawn a simple diagram on the note and written a recommendation for Roland.

"Those are people who are trying hard to live a good life."

If you encounter any difficulties or need help, you can come to church to find me. I'm usually there.

She gave Li Ping a final, tight hug, and whispered firmly in his ear, "May God watch over you, my child."

"Thank you...really, thank you so much."

Li Ping's voice was genuinely hoarse this time. He lowered his head, avoiding the old man's gaze, which carried so much sorrow and concern.

"What you gave me...was more than just food."

Leaving the church distribution point and walking into the quiet street, Li Ping gripped the slip of paper tightly.

This was the first act of kindness they received after falling into this quagmire, without any apparent conditions attached.

"Brother, what did that old lady say to you just now?"

Li Fan leaned closer, but his English was limited to just spouting single words, so he couldn't understand a word the whole time.

Abba... Abba... Abba...

Li Ping carefully put the note away, his gaze drifting northeast, "A place that might give us a chance to catch our breath."

It was still early, not even five o'clock, and the feeling of fullness in my stomach could last for a while longer.

Li Ping decided to set off immediately.

The location indicated on the note was not in the poor streets, but under the overpass not far away.

It's okay to loiter in a poor neighborhood, but staying there overnight is not a good idea.

I'd already faintly heard a few gunshots during the day, and then at night...

Underpasses are prime locations for homeless people, offering shelter from the wind and rain, and they don't charge a fee.

They had tried to approach several places before, but were rudely driven away.

The homeless also form small camps, stick together for warmth, and divide up territory; joining is not so easy.

For the past few days, they have been constantly driven away by the police and have not even had a tent to shelter them.

Hopefully, this Roland Camp can truly provide a temporary haven, just as Ms. Marina said.