Chapter 559: A Woman in Chinese Back Street Translator: Timothy Editor: GlobeGlotter

When Ye Mo returned to Chinese Back Street, he expected to find Annie immediately, but she wasn't there. He didn't mind; he could search the entire street with his spirit sense in an instant. There were at most one or two thousand people, so it wasn't a big deal, and knowing he was looking for a woman narrowed his search considerably.

As he reached a corner, his spirit sense alerted him to a suspicious room. It was dark, containing only a tattered chair and an ugly, old woman. He stopped. The woman's appearance was a mask; she wasn't truly ugly, just heavily made up.

For the first time, Ye Mo used his spirit sense to examine her beneath her clothes. Despite her blackened neck and hands, her skin was very white. He stopped looking. Regardless of whether this was Sister Yan, she seemed unrelated to him. He noticed baby hair behind her ear, indicating virginity. How could she be connected to him? But her altered appearance demanded investigation. Why would a woman disfigure herself in this slum?

Who was she? Ye Mo frowned, approached, and pushed open the door. The woman, just waking, discovered Sisi and Annie's absence and was startled by the stranger. She subconsciously grabbed a shirt to cover herself, then quickly lowered it. “Who are you? Why are you in my house?” she asked, her tone coarse.

Ye Mo sat down, studying her. “I’m looking for someone called ‘Sister Yan.’ Do you know her?”

His spirit sense detected her shiver. “Don’t worry. Sister Yan might be related to me. I mean you no harm. My name is Ye Mo, and I’m from China.” He suddenly felt she might be Sister Yan.

“You’re Ye Mo? The one who helped Sisi? Edward didn’t keep you?” Her voice became crisp.

Ye Mo nodded. “Yes, and no. He gave me some money, then I left.”

Silence followed. She studied him for a long time before shakily standing.

“Are you ill?” Ye Mo offered to help. As he supported her, he felt her tremble again.

“You don’t need to, but thank you for helping Sisi.” She lacked the strength to refuse. She likely understood the meaning of “Edward sponsored me.” She'd been involved with the Chinese gang long enough.

Ye Mo produced a bracelet. “I came here because of this.”

Seeing it, she grabbed it, tears flowing uncontrollably. Ye Mo guessed she was Sister Yan; the bracelet belonged to her. He gave her a lotus life pill, then treated her meridians.

Ten minutes later, she spat blood, and impurities seeped from her body. Nourished by his chi and the pill, she fainted. Ye Mo sighed. Long-term stress; he’d arrived just in time. Another six months, and she would have been lost.

He didn’t wake her; her meridians were rapidly developing. A few minutes later, she awoke, smelled the stench from her body, screamed, and rushed to the shower without a word.

Ye Mo chuckled. A woman, regardless of age, cared about such things. But another scream from the shower sent him rushing in. He found her unconscious in a corner, blood on her head. He hesitated to help.

Then he thought, ‘What am I hesitating about?’ Annie and Yin Si were absent. Although she was undressed, she was at least 40. He'd already seen her; waking her would be more awkward. He'd help her dress.

But using waterball magic to clean her, he realized his mistake. She wasn’t 50s; her skin was whiter than Song Yangzhu’s, her chest firm. He stopped looking, quickly cleaned her, dressed her, and removed the head wound. He also removed the makeup from her face.

He placed her on a recliner and waited, studying the house. It was old, the living room small, with three rooms. He’d thought Yin Si and Yin Jia were her children, but now he knew they weren't.

‘Si Jia’ – she'd named them. She longed for home. Ye Mo sighed. Life had been hard.

He looked at her again, dazed. She wasn't Sister Yan. He had her photo; they were different. He'd hurriedly cleaned her, not realizing her beauty, comparable to Luo Ying. He saw a resemblance. Was she related? Impossible.

While he pondered, she opened her eyes, saw him, and remembered something. Touching her clothes, her face flushed, then paled. She saw her waist scars were gone and fainted again. Now, she was clean and dressed. Ye Mo had done it.

“Sorry, it was an emergency. I helped,” he said, seeing her look at her clothes. “I didn’t know where yours were, so I used my wife’s.”

“You’re married?” Her expression softened.

Ye Mo nodded. “We haven’t had a wedding yet, but yes.”

She misunderstood, thinking they lived together. She took out the bracelet, tears welling again.