Chapter 60: Santa Claus Cooking Laba Porridge, How Could I Do Such a Thing

Jason held the bowl and drank three full bowls in a row, filling his empty stomach completely with the rich porridge; at this moment, his other companions had long since started burping.

At this time, the chef patted his shoulder and asked, "I heard them call you Jason?"

"Yes, Mr., my name is Jason."

"My name is Ma Ma Zhaodi. I'm Asian, Chinese, so my full name is Ma Ma Zhaodi—what's your full name?"

"Jason Todd."

"Hey." The chef's face lit up: "Did your name get its inspiration from that movie? The one with the big guy wearing a hockey mask, Jason?"

"Mr." Jason, now, dared not look Ma Ma Zhaodi in the eyes and did not answer his question, but asked cautiously, "Why are you helping me?"

"Well," Ma Ma Zhaodi thought for a moment and replied, "I wanted to help, and I could help, so I helped—and I guess I'm not the only one who has helped you."

Jason immediately thought of a woman who looked very much like a black cat and a man who looked very much like a bat; his own gang had indeed received help from them. The woman had given them some money, while the man had dealt with many criminals who wanted to harm them.

"I guess what you really want to ask is why I'm not holding you accountable?"

Jason still kept his head down and nodded silently.

"Because you didn't do anything worse to survive, Jason."

Ma Ma Zhaodi patted his head: "Most people look very normal in ordinary times, following rules, supporting themselves, and committing no crimes; but in times of hardship, they are just ordinary people, naturally with weaknesses, and they may also break their own limits. The more difficult the situation, the harder it is to hold on."

"Jason, when facing a life-or-death dilemma, the worst thing you did was only theft, and even that was to save your companions. Actually, you are very kind and very brave, or rather, you are all very kind."

"If I were in your situation, I might not have such kindness and bravery."

Jason still kept his head down; his nose stung, and he felt like crying, so he didn't want to lift his head.

Ever since his mother died early, his father was imprisoned for drug trafficking, and he almost became a de facto orphan, he had rarely heard recognition from other adults; more often, he heard scolding, was ignored, or was deceived.

He said nothing, and Ma Ma Zhaodi, not wanting to disturb his thoughts, turned to look at the other children and asked, "Are there any other children like you around here?"

The children of the car gang looked at each other, guessed what Ma Ma Zhaodi wanted to do, and one child stammered, "Yes, there are three gangs, at..."

"Zebby!" A slightly sharper-looking child suddenly shouted, cutting him off.

"Colin, don't do that." At this moment, Jason, having regained his composure, lifted his head again: "Their situation isn't good either."

"But, Jason, they bullied us so much before!"

"They have also cooperated with us—now it's already very cold. We can't just watch them freeze to death; otherwise, who can we turn to for cooperation in the future?"

Very smart, Ma Ma Zhaodi thought. Such a smart child is not very common in Gotham—wait, his name is Jason?

Jason Todd?

Holy crap! Jason Todd! Batman's second Robin! The future Red Hood!

His origin story has multiple versions, but Ma Ma Zhaodi vaguely remembered that in one version, his temper was very bad, actually extremely bad—impulsive, irritable, and stubborn. But this version of Jason was also very formidable; he single-handedly tore off two tires of the Batmobile. In Ma Ma Zhaodi's understanding, this achievement was unprecedented and unrepeatable; none of Gotham City's super-villains had ever accomplished it.

Could this version be him? But his temper doesn't seem so violent yet, or perhaps he hasn't developed into the future "flat-headed brother" personality that fights anyone he sees?

A person's character is shaped by their growth experiences. Jason, at the very beginning, might not necessarily have been a hothead. Looking at him now, he is clearly a good child, just like Tim.

But he will most likely become Batman's Robin in the future. Is interacting with him too frequently, or having too close a relationship with him, inconsistent with my own principle of seeking benefits and avoiding harm?

"..." Ma Ma Zhaodi shook his head. Regardless, abandoning children was not his style. Matters of the future could be considered in the future; as for now, he should first help them get through this winter.

—

That night, a bat with outstretched wings flew over Gotham City again.

The cold wave brought by the winter snow had almost no effect on him. The Batsuit created by Wayne Tech, combined with Batman's own super physique, gave him extremely strong environmental adaptability.

And tonight, his condition was better than ever before. Today, he went to the hospital for a checkup; more than a dozen fractures in his body had seen seven old injuries heal, and the newly fractured ones had also recovered significantly. According to the doctor, he only needed two months of rest to return to normal levels.

But he could not rest; Batman has no vacation, and cannot take one.

When he patrolled to the area where homeless children in the East End gathered, something caught his attention.

"Firelight, a large gathering of homeless children—something is not right. I have never seen this situation in previous Gotham, not even when these children fought in gangs, was there such a scene."

He slightly contracted his cape, and his gliding posture immediately turned into a dive, flying toward that gathering place.

The closer he got, the more he could smell a rich fragrance, like... porridge?

Someone came here to cook porridge?

Who would do such a thing?

Seeing that he was about to land, he spread his cape again, suddenly slowing his diving speed. With a light roll, Batman landed silently on the roof of a low building.

He looked up and found that in an open-air temporary shelter, a man wearing a red cotton coat, black boots, and a Santa hat was stirring a huge pot with a spoon in his hand. The sweet, fragrant smell of porridge was wafting from that pot.

"What is this guy doing again?"

Batman was an expert in disguise and makeup; of course, he could see through the true identity of that "Santa Claus" at a glance. Even though the other person had put on a ridiculous white-gray long beard, he could be almost one hundred percent certain that this person was Ma Ma Zhaodi, whose house had been burned down just yesterday and who had become a homeless vagrant.

"What does he want to do again? Is there a conspiracy in this matter?"

Batman's train of thought always starts from this direction.

"Or does he have no purpose at all, and simply... wants to help the homeless children in the East End?"

Batman fell into thought.

(End of this chapter)