Rebirth Stockpiling: The Little Girl Sweeps Through the Apocalypse-Chapter 447

On a wide highway.

A large truck suddenly lost control and crashed head-on into a black sedan.

"Bang!"

The sedan was overturned and pushed several meters before slamming into the roadside guardrail.

The car was crushed beyond recognition.

The truck driver hurriedly climbed out of his vehicle.

Trembling with fear, he approached the sedan and peered through the window to check on the occupants.

When he saw the lifeless bodies of a young couple in the driver and passenger seats, drenched in blood, his entire body froze in terror.

He had killed someone!

Panic flooded his eyes as he frantically glanced around.

Spotting no surveillance cameras nearby, he rushed back to his truck, slammed the accelerator, and sped away.

"Help... help us..."

Unnoticed by him, a five-year-old boy lay in the backseat.

The child was badly injured but still alive, though barely conscious, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

He weakly pleaded for the truck driver to save him and his parents.

But the driver drove off without hesitation, shattering the boy’s last sliver of hope.

His vision blurred, and darkness swallowed him whole.

When he woke again, he found himself in a hospital bed.

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Staring blankly at the sterile white ceiling, Tong Zhan felt utterly lost.

"Poor child, losing both parents at such a young age."

"Yeah, and no relatives have come for him yet. How will he survive on his own?"

Both parents… dead?

Tong Zhan’s gaze sharpened as the memories exploded in his mind.

The horrific scenes of the accident replayed before his eyes.

Tears spilled uncontrollably, soaking the pristine pillow beneath him.

---

"We feed you, clothe you—what’s wrong with asking you to do some chores?"

A shrill, harsh voice rang out from inside the house.

"If we hadn’t taken you in, you wouldn’t even have a home! You think you’re still the little prince your parents spoiled? Wake up—your parents are dead! You have nothing!"

Each ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‍word from the woman was colder and crueler than the last.

In front of her stood a boy of about eight.

"Enough, why say such things?"

A man rose from the couch, cutting her off.

He turned to the boy.

"Tong Zhan, listen. Your aunt works hard taking care of you and your cousin. You’re the older brother—helping with chores is only right. At your age, I could already cook, clean, and fetch water perfectly. Boys need to be responsible, understand?"

His tone was patient, almost sympathetic.

"When we brought you home from the hospital, it was only because you’re my sister’s only child. We pitied you.

We don’t expect repayment, but your aunt isn’t wrong—housing, feeding, and schooling you costs us dearly.

If you’re grateful, you shouldn’t wait to be told. You should help willingly.

And your cousin is still young. As the elder brother, you must always give way to him. Understood?"

Tong Zhan clenched his fists, nodding meekly.

"Yes, I understand."

With that, he gathered his clothes and headed to the bathroom to wash them.

The water was ice-cold—winter had set in, and his hands turned raw and red.

His aunt insisted the washing machine was too harsh for his cousin’s delicate skin. Hand-washing was "better."

---

One night, thirst drove him out of bed for water.

But as he passed his uncle and aunt’s room, their conversation stopped him in his tracks.

For the first time, he learned the truth: his uncle had never taken him in out of kindness.

They wanted his parents’ savings—and the insurance payout.

Only by becoming his legal guardians could they access that money.

No wonder his uncle gambled endlessly yet never ran out of cash.

No wonder his jobless aunt splurged on clothes and cosmetics.

They were living off his parents’ lifeblood!

Yet they played the martyrs, acting as if they’d sacrificed everything for him.

To outsiders, they were saints—generous souls raising their poor orphaned nephew.

Everywhere he went, people praised them: "You must repay your uncle and aunt someday. They’ve done so much for you."

But the reality?

He slept in a storage room, on a cramped cot.

Every day after school meant endless chores.

His cousin tormented him, yet his uncle and aunt always blamed him—never their precious son.

They were worse than bloodsucking demons.

Still, at eight years old, Tong Zhan clung to the illusion of family.

Even knowing the truth, he pretended ignorance.

Because exposing it would leave him truly alone.

Then, a year later, his uncle gambled away a fortune.

Unable to pay back the money, they planned to sell him to organ traffickers!

Fortunately, the day before, as he was walking home from school, Tong Zhan overheard his uncle whispering on the phone in the hallway, secretly arranging the deal.

That was how he learned the truth.

So, he turned and ran.

He returned to school and sought out his homeroom teacher.

She was a young woman, new to teaching but very responsible.

That day, she had a meeting after school, so Tong Zhan knew she wouldn’t have left yet.

Since Tong Zhan was a top student, the teacher wanted him to represent the school in an out-of-province math competition.

Originally, he had no interest in going, but after hearing that phone call, he told her he was eager to participate—though his uncle had reservations.

He asked if she could visit their home the next morning at around eight for a parent-teacher meeting to persuade his uncle.

He even assured her that his uncle had already agreed to it.

Hearing this, the teacher readily accepted.

The next day was Saturday, so she was free.

Back home, while preparing dinner, he crushed the sleeping pills he’d stolen from his uncle’s room and mixed them into his uncle’s, aunt’s, and younger brother’s bowls.

He added some to his own bowl too—just a much smaller dose.

That night, he ate very little.

When the three of them grew drowsy, he obediently urged them to rest while he took care of the dishes and cleaning.

They were pleased, of course.

But they didn’t know that the moment they entered their rooms, they would never walk out again.

Because in the early hours of the morning, while they slept soundly, the boy turned on the gas valve…