以下是你提供的这一大段中文内容的英文翻译.为了保持原文的风格,人物情感与节奏,我尽量做了忠实且自然的翻译,采用小说常见的叙述语气:
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Uncle Nan walked to the bedside, reached out, picked up the crumpled paper ball, and unfolded it.
There was a single, simple line written on it:
"If you don't want him to die, feed this to him."
Inside the paper ball were only two items. The iron lighter was immediately ignored, leaving just the carrot.
"W-What kind of joke is this?" Uncle Nan was stunned, holding the note and the carrot helplessly.
In that instant, countless thoughts raced through his mind.
Could it be... this thing could cure his son's severe poisoning, just as the note said?
He looked down and noticed the carrot was indeed very different from the vegetables affected by radiation—it didn't have gray spots but was crystal clear, emitting a faint medicinal scent.
"Dad... cough cough... what is that?" Xiao Tian asked in a tearful voice, coughing violently.
"It's medicine! It's medicine!" Uncle Nan tried convincing himself. Could a mere carrot really do what even hospitals failed to accomplish?
But he had no other choice now.
Xiao Tian's symptoms were worsening rapidly. Within two hours, his organs would completely shut down.
At this point, Uncle Nan was like a drowning man clutching at straws—he would cling to even the faintest hope, regardless of how ridiculous it seemed.
To use an old saying: treating a dead horse as if it were still alive.
"Son, open your mouth and eat it..." Uncle Nan gritted his teeth, stepped to the bedside, forced open Xiao Tian's mouth, and shoved the carrot in.
"Chew! Swallow it!" Tears streamed down Uncle Nan's face as he urged him.
Xiao Tian, barely conscious, had no idea what his father was doing. But in his dazed state, he could only follow Uncle Nan's instructions mechanically.
Outside the window, Lin Fan stood silently on a rooftop, watching everything unfold inside the room.
Finally, Xiao Tian swallowed the first bite.
"Ah!!"
He suddenly let out a scream, and his entire body began trembling violently.
"Xiao Tian! Xiao Tian!" Uncle Nan panicked, dropping the remaining half of the carrot onto the floor.
Then, Xiao Tian suddenly sat up and began vomiting violently over the side of the bed.
His breathing grew steady, and the grayness on his skin gradually faded!
Lin Fan saw the boy's face slowly regain color and warmth.
He took a deep breath, pulled out a small notebook, and wrote with a carbon pen:
> "Ancient-grade medicine shows clear therapeutic effect against radiation poisoning. Side effects remain unknown…"
From inside the room came the sound of Uncle Nan weeping with joy.
Lin Fan gently picked up Xin Xin in his arms and turned to walk back toward his truck.
The result he wanted had been confirmed.
Xiao Tian's recovery proved the terrifying efficacy of the ancient-grade medicine. As a test subject, he'd regained his life, and Lin Fan had acquired valuable data—a win-win outcome.
But the next step of his experiment would be even more difficult.
Lin Fan wanted to test whether ancient-grade medicine could reverse biological mutations caused by consuming irradiated vegetables.
But such opportunities were rare and unpredictable.
Even he would have to rely on luck.
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Thirty minutes after leaving the town in his truck, Lin Fan arrived at the center of Nancheng.
It was 10 p.m.
Before the Cataclysm, this area would've been buzzing with nightlife.
Now, the streets were deserted. Shattered glass, broken signs, and debris littered the ground. Mall entrances and storefronts were tightly shut. Some shop windows had been smashed and looted—evidence of recent riots.
The neon lights of bars and KTVs, once so vibrant, were now completely dark. The loud music that once filled the streets was gone.
Dead stray dogs and cats lay in the gutters, rotting quickly.
Ambulances occasionally wailed through the city.
The air reeked of despair.
Police motorcycles zoomed by now and then, officers looking tense. Their radios were full of chatter:
> "Another robbery on XX Avenue…"
> "Burglary reported at XX residential complex…"
> "A woman's body found at Pond XX, estimated time of death…"
Seeing all this, Lin Fan realized the situation had spiraled far more out of control than he had predicted.
In this post-apocalyptic world, far too many people were taking advantage of the chaos. The number of people dying from violence might even exceed those dying from radiation poisoning.
As he drove past the entertainment district and turned a corner, he suddenly heard a loud commotion.
Then, he saw it—a massive crowd lined up outside a department store, stretching for hundreds of meters!
A glowing banner hung above the entrance:
"Designated Emergency Supply Purchase Point."
Boxes of rice, flour, and some vegetables were stacked in refrigerated cabinets like glittering treasures, drawing hungry gazes from thousands.
Despite the cold, people pressed close like ants—yelling, pushing, even fighting.
> "No cutting in line! I've been waiting five hours, I go first!"
> "Bullshit! This was my spot—I just went to the bathroom!"
> "Screw you, you uncivilized peasants! I'm the general manager of New East Corp! You'll regret crossing me—OW! Who kicked me?!"
Police cars flashed their lights nearby. Officers shouted through megaphones:
> "Everyone, please maintain order! Stay calm! Each person is entitled to purchase 5 jin of rice, 5 jin of flour, and 1 jin of vegetables with valid ID!"
Lin Fan watched silently, unsure what to say.
In times of disaster, Chinese people always hoarded food—until they felt "secure." Every home turning into a mini warehouse. Even soaring prices couldn't curb the frenzy.
Just as he was about to leave, a uniformed officer approached and tapped on his window with a serious expression.
"Pull over and kill the engine."
Lin Fan raised an eyebrow, then casually took out an opened box of cigarettes from the passenger seat and offered one with a friendly smile:
"Officer, is something wrong?"
He didn't actually smoke—cigarettes were just a social tool for him.
The officer waved it away but softened his tone:
"Pop the rear compartment open. We need to check."
Lin Fan had nothing illegal in the back—just farm tools—so he calmly got out and complied.
The officer scanned the truck bed with a flashlight, then nodded. "All clear. You're good to go."
He added in a more relaxed tone, "We've had people hauling radiated vegetables and selling them as clean produce—trying to make a profit while harming others."
The officer shut off his flashlight and offered a sincere warning: "If you're trying to buy food, stick to designated purchase points. Anything else is risky."
"Thanks," Lin Fan nodded.
So his predictions were right—the government had begun regulating food sales.
But the real cause of the surge in poisonings? Black-hearted profiteers selling irradiated vegetables as safe food.
Choosing low-radiation ones and selling under cover of night—capitalism at its vilest.
Before leaving, Lin Fan glanced again at the crowd outside the store. If he hadn't been lucky enough to be chosen as a player… he might've been one of them.
Or worse, one of the dead listed in the paper.
"Ge, I'm scared…" Xin Xin said from the passenger seat, her voice trembling.
She didn't know exactly what was happening, but the air felt heavy—oppressive.
Lin Fan patted her head.
"I'm here."
He didn't say much more—just those three simple words, and Xin Xin immediately felt safe.
"Mm!" she nodded vigorously. "As long as you're here, I'm not afraid of anything!"
Lin Fan turned the steering wheel to head back to the farm. It was already late, and he was exhausted.
But just as he entered the city's outer ring road, a modified van suddenly sped up, cut in front of him, and screeched to a halt—blocking his path completely.
"…" Lin Fan frowned, quietly pulling a military dagger from under his seat.
Clack!
The other vehicle's door burst open. A chubby, acne-scarred man with a large satchel jumped out and ran over, knocking on Lin Fan's window.
"Brother, we're heading the same way!"
"Something you need?" Lin Fan kept his smile, his grip tightening on the dagger.
"I saw you around the supply depot earlier, right? Couldn't get any food?" The man grinned, then quickly unzipped his bag to reveal its contents: watermelons, cucumbers, pumpkins, tomatoes… even rice!
"You want something? I got everything!"
Lin Fan's expression froze.
So this guy was… a black market dealer?
He glanced over the vegetables in the satchel, then suddenly smiled.
"Brother… are your melons… ripe?"