It seemed, although Hua Cheng was the sentimental sort, he also cared more about control and power than Xie Lian realized.
Hua Cheng continued, “Nonetheless, thank you, gege, for your concern.”
Just then, Xie Lian heard a voice from the door.
“Chengzhu, I’ve brought him.”
Xie Lian looked to the front entrance and saw the Waning Moon Officer from before, bowing just beyond the beaded curtain. In his arms he held none other than the ragged boy in bandages.
Hua Cheng didn’t even turn his head. “Bring him over.”
Thus, the Waning Moon Officer carried the boy inside and put him gently on the ground. Xie Lian couldn’t help but peek at the officer’s wrist again to see whether there really was a cursed shackle, but he bowed and stood down swiftly after delivering the boy. Since there were more important matters at hand, Xie Lian cut in first and soothed the boy.
“Don’t be scared. It was my fault last time; I won’t do it again.”
The boy’s eyes were wide with fear and confusion, but he stayed in place—perhaps because he had run out of energy to escape, or perhaps because he knew he couldn’t get away. He peeked at Xie Lian, then peeked at the lap table on the black jade divan. Xie Lian followed his line of sight and saw he was eyeing a plate of luscious fruit.
The boy must’ve been hiding for too long and had not eaten. Xie Lian turned to Hua Cheng, but before he said anything, Hua Cheng answered.
“Go ahead, no need to ask me.”
It wasn’t the time for politeness, so Xie Lian uttered a thanks and reached for the plate of fruit, giving it to the boy. That boy snatched the plate from Xie Lian and started stuffing fruit into his mouth.
It appeared he really was desperately starving. Even when Xie Lian was at his worst, starved like a stray dog, he’d never shoved food into his face like this.
“Slow down,” he chided gently. After a pause, he attempted, “What’s your name?”
The boy mumbled as he ate, looking as if he was trying to say something but couldn’t do so clearly.
“He may not have spoken in many years and has forgotten how,” Hua Cheng suggested.
Indeed, it looked like this boy did not speak much, not even to Xiao-Ying, and had likely been like this for a long time. Xie Lian sighed.
“We can do this slowly.”
By then, all the fruit on the plate had been devoured like a whirlwind. Seeing that his bandages were soaked with dried blood, covered in black and red spots alike, Xie Lian made a gentle offer after a moment of thought.
“There are wounds on your face, and they seem serious. Let me help take a look.”
At the mention of unwrapping his bandages, fear immediately engulfed the boy’s eyes. However, after Xie Lian’s tireless soothing and encouragement, he once more sat down obediently. Xie Lian retrieved a bottle of medicinal powder from his sleeve, moving slowly as he unraveled the mess of bandages around his head.
As he had suspected, although the boy’s face was a mangled mess, all the terrifying little human faces were gone, replaced by large blotches of bright red scars.
The last time they met at Mount Yujun, there were burns covering his face but not as much blood. This boy must’ve used a knife to cut away the human faces from his own since then, leaving those scars behind.
Xie Lian’s hands trembled softly as he rubbed the medicine in. Hua Cheng caught his wrist and said, “Let me.”
Xie Lian shook his head and gently pulled his hand free, then said in a low voice, “No. Let me do this myself.”
Eight hundred years ago in the Kingdom of Xianle, many who contracted this disease found themselves with no other options and chose this route of self-mutilation. It was hell on earth. Some would miss their target and cut where they shouldn’t—and die from blood loss as a result. Some, although successful in removing the terrible lesions, never healed from those wounds.
As Xie Lian wrapped fresh bandages around the boy’s head, he realized that his features were actually quite proper: his nose straight and refined, his eyes black and clear. He should’ve been a handsome young man, but now he bore such a terrifying appearance. He was like many others before him: even if he cut away the distorted human faces, his face would forever be a nightmare, never to recover.
Xie Lian finished wrapping the new bandages before he asked with a shaky voice, “Are you…from Xianle?”
The boy turned to gaze at him with his big eyes. Xie Lian repeated his question, but the boy only shook his head.
Xie Lian then asked, “Then where are you from, exactly?”