Chapter 280: Taking You Home

Chapter 280: Taking You Home

Zoey snapped back to reality. She turned her head toward Chase with a bright smile:

"Come on, let me show you the medical tent. Perfect timing—the nutritional injections you brought can be used this afternoon for the kids who just had surgery."

Chase nodded and followed her into the tent. Sunlight fell on them both, stretching their shadows long across the ground. Zoey walked with light steps, the candy box in her pocket gently clinking with soft sounds. She knew this wasn't just a shipment of supplies arriving—it was hope continuing. And that beach from her dream seemed to have moved one step closer to reality.

Inside the medical tent, the smell of disinfectant mixed with various other strange odors.

Chase frowned as soon as he entered.

Zoey seemed long accustomed to this environment, greeting two children squeezed together on a makeshift bed near the entrance.

The two children lay on the simple bed. Seeing Zoey and Chase come in, they opened their eyes wide with timid curiosity, sizing up Chase. But their faces remained pale as paper, barely having the strength to lift their hands.

Zoey pulled out the box of fruit candies from her uniform pocket, crouched down, and softened her voice more than a spring breeze:

"Come here, I'll share some candy with you."

Hearing there was candy, the children's eyes instantly lit up like little stars being ignited, yet they didn't dare reach out rashly. Zoey unwrapped a strawberry-flavored candy and handed it to the smallest girl. The girl hesitated for a moment, then quickly took it and popped it in her mouth, mumbling "thank you," her lips immediately curving into a small smile.

Chase stood to the side watching. His gaze swept over the children's thin bodies, over the painfully thin IV tubes on their wrists, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly. Only after seeing Zoey hand the last candy to a little boy did he sigh:

"These kids are too frail. They all look malnourished."

As he spoke, he picked up a box of injections with prominent labels:

"This batch of nutritional injections is specifically for post-operative patients' energy supplementation."

He pointed to the dosage instructions on the packaging and continued:

"Your report said most of the kids here have weak digestive systems and don't absorb oral nutrition well, so I specifically had my team add high concentrations of protein and vitamins. No need for oral administration—direct IV infusion can help them recover their strength fastest. This is exactly what they need."

Zoey nodded. What Chase was saying was exactly what she wanted to say.

Just then, a nurse came over pushing a treatment cart with sterilized syringes and IV tubes. It was time to give these children, just pulled back from death's edge, their infusions. Zoey put on gloves and personally prepared the medicine. Chase naturally took the injection box from her hands, skillfully opening the packaging and checking the dosage, his movements as smooth as an experienced clinical doctor.

Zoey's hands paused, looking at him with some surprise:

"How do you know how to do this?"

Chase looked up at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes, his tone matter-of-fact:

"I also studied medicine, though I later switched to business management. Even though I haven't done clinical work in a long time, these basic skills are impossible to forget."

He paused, then added:

"Can't just be a boss sitting in an office without even knowing how to use the medicine I make."

Zoey froze for a moment. The flashy playboy from back home in her memory, and later the decisive business executive in Celestria, now overlapped with the figure before her skillfully unwrapping injection packages. It turned out he'd never really abandoned those foundations—his light had just been blocked by others' stereotypes.

The first nutritional injection slowly entered the little girl's vein, the warm liquid flowing through her bloodstream. Before long, the girl's originally dark, sallow face gradually became rosy, and she even took the initiative to share her candy with the little boy next to her, her small face showing some vitality.

"Look, she's doing so much better!"

The nurse noticed this during her rounds, speaking almost excitedly.

Zoey also saw the girl's change. She turned to look at Chase, her voice carrying a trace of emotion:

"Thank you, Chase."

"I should be the one saying thank you."

Chase looked at her, his gaze sincere:

"You showed me that the medicine we make can really save so many people."

The sunlight outside the tent grew stronger. The volunteers had finished unloading all the supplies, sorting and stacking them in the warehouse. Leah appeared at some point, clutching a freshly picked little yellow flower.

She stopped in front of Chase, timidly raising her hand to give him the flower, but not daring to look at him.

Chase crouched down and carefully took the small flower. His fingertips touched the soft petals, and something seemed to gently tickle his heart. Neither of them spoke. After giving the flower, Leah quickly hid behind Zoey, only showing a bit of her reddened ear.

Chase looked at the small figure hiding behind Zoey and said softly with a smile, "Thank you."

Leah nodded hard but still didn't dare come out.

As the sun set, melodious songs played over the camp's broadcast system. Zoey and Chase stood at the tent entrance, watching the bonfire slowly being lit in the distance. The tribe's people sat in a circle, clapping and humming ancient tunes. Several women saw Zoey and waved, smiling, calling her over. Matthew also walked over and sat down beside her.

The firelight reflected on Matthew's face. She took a sip of water, watching the singing and dancing tribespeople, and said softly:

"In their lifetime, they've seen too much gunfire, heard too many cries, yet they still face life with a smile."

Zoey followed her gaze and saw a man who had lost his right leg holding a child and dancing, his face bright with an open, radiant smile.

"They say,"

Elias's voice carried a kind of accepting tenderness:

"The future is too far away—can't see it, can't touch it. But the wind right now is gentle, the bonfire is bright, and the people around them are alive. That's enough. Every extra day lived, every extra song sung, is a gain."

Chase sat nearby, listening quietly. The firelight flickered on his face, but the expression in his eyes grew deeper.

He suddenly turned his head to look at Zoey beside him, his voice very soft, as if afraid to disturb this rare peace:

"When your mission is complete, I'll take you home."

Zoey paused, turning to look at him. The evening glow fell on his face, outlining soft contours. She smiled but didn't speak. The singing in the wind continued, and the firelight illuminated their figures sitting side by side—warm and lasting.