Chapter 60 Santa Claus Cooking Laba Porridge: How Could I Have Such a Dream

Jason held his bowl and finished a full three large bowls, completely filling his empty stomach with the rich, hearty porridge. By this time, his companions had already begun letting out satisfied burps.

At that moment, the chef patted him on the shoulder and asked, "I heard them call you Jason?"

"Yes, sir. My name is Jason."

"My name is Ma Zhaodi. I'm of Asian descent, a Chinese, so my full name is Ma Zhaodi. What's your full name?"

"Jason Todd."

"Hey," a smile broke out on the chef's face. "Is your name inspired by that movie? You know, that big guy Jason in the hockey mask?"

"Sir..." Jason didn't dare meet Ma Zhaodi's eyes, nor did he answer the question. Instead, he asked cautiously, "Why... why are you helping me?"

"As for that..." Ma Zhaodi thought for a moment and replied, "I wanted to help, and I was able to help, so I helped. And I'm guessing I'm not the only one who has helped you kids."

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 kids' gang had indeed received help from them; the woman had given them some money, while the man had taken care of many criminals who had wanted to harm them.

"I suppose what you really want to ask is, why didn't I hold you accountable?"

Jason still kept his head lowered and nodded silently.

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

Ma Zhaodi patted him on the head. "Most people seem normal enough on ordinary days—they follow the rules, earn an honest living, and don't commit crimes. But in times of hardship, they are just ordinary people. Naturally, they have weaknesses, and they might cross their respective boundaries. The harder the situation, the harder it is to hold on."

"Jason, when faced with a life-or-death crisis, the worst thing you did was steal, and even then, it was to save your companion. In reality, you are very kind, and very brave—or rather, all of you are very kind."

"If I were in your shoes, I might not possess your kindness and bravery."

Jason kept his head down. His nose stung, and feeling a sudden urge to cry, he refused to raise his head.

Ever since his mother died young, his father was imprisoned for drug trafficking, and he became a de facto orphan, he had rarely heard validation from other adults. More often, he encountered scolding, indifference, or deceit.

Seeing that he didn't speak, Ma Zhaodi didn't disturb his thoughts. Instead, he turned to the other children and asked, "Are there any other kids like you around here?"

The children of the Car Gang looked at each other, guessing what Ma Zhaodi was trying to do. One child stammered, "There are... there are three other gangs, located at..."

"Zeb!" The slightly sharper-looking child suddenly shouted, cutting him off.

"Colin, don't be like that." Having gathered his composure, Jason raised his head again. "Their situation isn't any better than ours."

"But, Jason, they bully us all the time!"

"They've cooperated with us before too. It's already very cold now; we can't just watch them freeze to death. If we do, who will we have left to cooperate with in the future?"

*Quite clever,* Ma Zhaodi thought. Such a smart kid was a rare sight in Gotham—wait, did he say his name was Jason?

Jason Todd?

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

His origin story had several versions, but Ma Zhaodi vaguely remembered that in certain iterations, his temper was terrible—actually, exceptionally terrible—impulsive, irritable, and stubborn. Yet this version of Jason was also remarkably formidable; he had managed to strip the two tires off the Batmobile entirely on his own. In Ma Zhaodi's view, this achievement was unprecedented and unrepeated, something not a single supervillain in Gotham City had ever managed to pull off.

Could the boy before him be that version? But his temperament didn't seem all that explosive at the moment—or perhaps he hadn't yet grown into that hot-headed personality of picking fights with anyone he laid eyes on?

A person's character is shaped by their life experiences; Jason wasn't necessarily born with a fiery temper. Right now, he clearly looked like a good kid, much like Tim.

Yet, he would most likely become Batman's Robin in the future... Wouldn't getting too involved with him, or maintaining too close a relationship with him, run counter to his guiding principle of seeking advantages and avoiding harm?

"..." Ma Zhaodi shook his head. Regardless, leaving children to fend for themselves was simply not his style. Future matters could be dealt with in the future. As for the present, he would first help them get through this winter.

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That night, the winged bat soared once more across the night sky of Gotham City.

The cold wave brought by the winter snow had almost no effect on him. The batsuit crafted by Wayne Enterprises, combined with Batman's own extraordinary physical conditioning, gave him an exceptionally high level of environmental adaptability.

On this particular night, his condition was better than ever. He had visited the hospital for a check-up today, and of the dozen or so fractures in his body, seven older injuries had completely healed, while the newer ones had recovered significantly. According to the doctor, he only needed two months of quiet recuperation to return to normal levels.

Yet quiet recuperation was out of the question. Batman did not take vacations, nor could he afford to.

When he patrolled the area frequented by the homeless children in the East End, a glimmer of light caught his attention.

"Firelight, a large gathering of homeless children... Something isn't right. I've never seen this kind of situation in Gotham before, not even when these kids engaged in gang wars on a large scale."

He slightly drew in his cape, instantly transforming his gliding posture into a steep dive as he flew toward the gathering place.

The closer he got, the stronger the rich, savory aroma he could smell. It smelled like... porridge?

Someone had gone out there to cook porridge?

Who would do such a thing?

Realizing he was about to touch down, he billowed his cape open again, sharply decelerating his diving speed. With a nimble roll, Batman landed silently atop the roof of a low building.

He raised his eyes and saw that inside an open-air makeshift shelter, a man wearing a red cotton jacket, black boots, and a Santa hat was stirring an oversized pot with a ladle. The sweet, mouth-watering scent of porridge was wafting directly from that very pot.

"This guy... what is he up to now?"

Batman was an expert in disguise and makeup; of course, he could see right through the true identity of that "Santa Claus," even with the comical fake white beard attached. He was almost a hundred percent certain that this person was Ma Zhaodi, the very man whose house had been burned down just yesterday, reducing him to a homeless vagrant.

"What is he trying to do this time? Is there a conspiracy behind this?"

Batman's thought process invariably started from that direction.

"Or perhaps... he has no ulterior motive at all, and simply wants to... help the homeless children of the East End?"

Batman fell into deep thought.