When the young boy knelt, stripped naked, on the dirt road, he slowly removed the bad man's hand from his neck. He saw everything that happened next in slow motion, the world blurring with the force of the rain. He saw blood and rain mixed together, washing over the ground. He tasted the metallic tang of blood in the air. He saw and heard the homeless man—Zhao Renshu—wielding a sword, through the swirling raindrops, slicing the armless bad man's flesh, and blood spurted everywhere, a horrifying geyser. He saw the homeless man cut off the villain's remaining arm. Then, the homeless man brandished his sword and, with a single, brutal swing, cut off the armless villain from his waistline. The blood and guts of the armless villain were everywhere, because two halves of him fell to the ground, a grotesque, lifeless mess.
The homeless man pointed his sword at the rest of the villains, who remained on their horses, frozen in terror. "You scums... don't deserve to breathe!" Zhao Renshu snarled, his voice guttural with hate.
The man who had been chasing Zhaohui, the one Fang Yaoting had kicked, slid towards the homeless man. He flipped his sword to his left hand, a desperate move, and then stabbed the bad man into his stomach. The homeless man, unyielding, nailed the bad guy to the ground with his sword. The homeless man then put his right foot on the bad guy's left face and pushed hard to the right, which made a loud bone-cracking sound as the man's head twisted unnaturally. The homeless man then drew the sword from the corpse of the bad man lying on the ground, wiping it on the dead man's clothes.
The homeless man opened his left palm, and white energy floated in his palm, swirling into a glowing symbol. He sent the symbol directly to the others who were still on horseback, their faces pale with fear. His symbol became hundreds of small icicles that pierced the riders. With just one move, all three men, including the group leader, fell to the ground, dead. The homeless man washed away his whitish sword with rainwater, letting the blood drip off, then put the sword back inside the scabbard he had on his back, and turned to look at the young boy.
The young boy gritted his teeth hard, watching Zhao Renshu's brutal efficiency. He thought deep in his heart that if he had these powers, he would kill everyone who mistreated him.
Zhao Renshu looked at the young boy who was immersed in the rain, his naked body exposed. Zhao Renshu noticed that after all these horrific things happened, the young boy was not even scared, just observant. He asked, "Hey kid, are you okay?"
The young boy was still spacing out, lost in his thoughts.
"Hey kid!" Zhao Renshu said louder, trying to snap him out of it.
The boy looked up at Zhao Renshu, his hazel eyes piercing.
"Are you okay?" Zhao Renshu repeated, his voice softer now.
The boy nodded, a slight, almost imperceptible movement.
"Get up, kid," Zhao Renshu said, stretching out his hand to help the boy. To his surprise, the boy was taken aback, flinching away, and then pushed his hand away, refusing his touch. "Look, kid, I won't hurt you," Zhao Renshu insisted, surprised by the reaction.
The boy picked up his robe from the mud, then slowly stood up, carefully following Zhao Renshu back to the carriage, maintaining a wary distance.
"Let us find some place to shelter from the rain," Guo Baiyu called out from the carriage, the sound of the rain still heavy.
After a while, the rain continued to fall heavily, and the group came across a small tavern located on the outskirts of a village, a welcome sight.
A waiter came to greet the group, his face a mix of curiosity and slight fear, and showed them inside. The waiter led them to a large table in a cozy corner.
"What can I get everyone?" the waiter asked, looking at the diverse group.
"How many dishes do you have?" Fang Yaoting asked, his voice calm.
"We have ten different kinds of dishes," the waiter replied.
"We will take one of each," Fang Yaoting decided.
"Please bring out some tea," Guo Baiyu added.
"Would you be kindly to find out if there is any woman willing to feed the baby?" Ping'an asked gently, her voice soft. "We can pay."
After the waiter left, Guo Baiyu looked at the young boy carefully. Because of the heavy rain earlier, he had no chance to look closely at the young boy. Guo Baiyu sat opposite the boy, and he realized that the boy was not entirely human. The boy was about fourteen years old. He had a dark tan complexion and striking hazel eyes. When the candlelight hit his eyes, the green color intensified, almost completely taking over the brown. His nose was higher, more defined. His lips were wider. His ears were long and pointed, like an elf's. His smooth black straight hair hung down to his waist, glistening from the rain. The boy reminded him of the healer in the Immortal Valley, a sense of deep connection.
"You are different?" Guo Baiyu asked, his voice curious.
"You saved me," the Young Boy said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "What do you want in return?"
"Hey kid," Zhao Renshu interjected, amused by the boy's bluntness. "I thought I had a bad attitude, but you are worse than me."
"Nothing is free," the Young Boy stated, looking at Zhao Renshu. "You saved me, and you want something in return."
"What's your name?" Guo Baiyu asked directly, trying to connect.
"People call me by my skin color," the Young Boy replied, his voice still cold.
"I suppose your name is black," Fang Yaoting commented, a slight smirk on his face.
"I don't have white skin like you, do I?" the Young Boy replied coldly, a hint of bitterness in his tone.
"Have you not seen white yet?" Zhao Renshu laughed, genuinely entertained. "If you want to see it, please go north to the Horseman land. There is white everywhere!"
"Renshu," Ping'an scolded softly, shaking her head.
"I'm telling the truth," Zhao Renshu defended himself. "Their armor is silver shine!"
"He calls you big brother, but the two of you don't look alike," Guo Baiyu observed, referring to Zhaohui.
"Because we are not related by blood," the Young Boy explained. "I found him wandering in the woods."
"You took him with you?" Guo Baiyu asked, surprised by his protectiveness.
"What's wrong with that?" the Young Boy retorted, a flash of indignation in his eyes. "I won't leave him to be food for wolves or foxes."
"Xiao Mei's auntie," Guo Baiyu began, gently probing, "how did she die?"
"I don't know," the young boy said, his gaze distant. "When Zhaohui and I were hiding from the rain, we found her in an abandoned temple. She asked me to take Xiao Mei and the baby to find someone named Brother Renshu. Then she said 'don't trust anyone, because the only person trustworthy was her late young master Guo'. We left to look for Brother Renshu. Two days ago, we met with the bastard Master He who lied that he was Brother Renshu."
Zhao Renshu snapped his chopsticks in half, a loud crack, his face contorted in fury. He hates people who impersonated him.
"Since you have escaped," Guo Baiyu continued, sensing the tension, "why do those men want to hurt you?"
"Because when their master tried to shovel their master's dick into my mouth," the Young Boy said, his voice flat, emotionless, "I bit his dick. He punched me in the eye, so I uppercut him on the chin and knocked the bastard out cold. I took the children, and we left."
Zhao Renshu was astonished, his jaw dropping. "You are one of a kind, kiddo!" He then tried a more personal question. "Where are your parents?"
"I don't know," the Young Boy replied, his face shutting down.
"You must come from somewhere," Zhao Renshu pressed gently.
"I don't want to talk about it," the Young Boy said, avoiding Zhao Renshu's question. He stood up abruptly. "I need to go to the bathroom."
The young boy didn't know how to answer Zhao Renshu's question; he didn't even know who his parents were, because he grew up in a brothel, a harsh reality he kept hidden.