With practiced hands, Qing lai loosened his robe and removed the outer layer. Then he gently brushed the undergarments off his shoulders and cleaned his wounds.
Qing lai's hands were cold from the water, yet Zhi Cheng felt a heat on his skin, which tingled over his body. Qing lai did not comment on the frequency and depth of the wounds. He did not inquire or judge him, although it must be quite obvious that Zhi Cheng was by no means a simple scholar.
No desk stool would survive multiple arrowheads and sword slashes. Zhi Cheng glanced at the light-colored mop of hair as Qing lai carefully cleaned and stitched up the cut on his hip.
"I want to thank you for your help, Brother Zhi!" said Qing lai after he had finished bandaging his upper arm. Zhi Cheng shook his head.
"Without you, the women and children probably wouldn't have survived."
Zhi Cheng bit his tongue. He had done something good, but he didn't like it at all. It had not been his intention. He looked stubbornly at the ground.
His exposed upper body did not feel the cold and dampness that filled the air. He was used to that. What he wasn't used to were the gentle touches of someone caring about him. The stupid things he had accomplished in just twenty-four hours.
He loved chaos and was often responsible for it. But he himself had never let himself get involved. Now it seemed as if he would never get out of this maelstrom.
It would probably be best to kill Qing lai. If this incorrigible pacifist was no longer alive, he could no longer influence him. Zhi Cheng's gaze darkened, his cool gaze slid across the floor to the golden-brown mop of hair.
He opened his fan, ready to ram the sharp metal fittings into Qing Lai's pretty eyes and rip his head off. His body tensed. Qing lai turned around the moment Zhi Cheng was ready to strike.
"I'm glad to have met you!" he said. Qing lai's voice sounded open, honest. Like a warm velvety fabric, it swept over Zhi Cheng's senses, warm like the first strengthening rays of the spring sun. He paused in the middle of his movement.
Those golden eyes looking straight at him, the smile on his face. That face ... flawless, even. High cheekbones, full lips. Qing Lai covered Zhi Cheng's bare skin with his own robe so that he was only standing in front of him in his undergarments and tied it for him.
"You should avoid overexertion for now so that the wounds don't reopen. Rest a little. When we reach the next town, I'll replace your clothes. After all, it's my fault that you were dragged into the battle!" said Qing lai, smoothing out his collar. Then he patted him lightly on the shoulder and packed up his things.
"Are you coming?" he asked when he was ready to go back.
Zhi Cheng felt Qing Lai's body heat inside the robe, brushing against his skin and slowly seeping into him. It warmed him from the inside, his muscles, his blood, and for the first time he felt the cold around him as uncomfortable.
He clutched the fan behind his back so tightly that he could feel the blood running over his hand and dripping onto the floor behind him. His heart was beating hard and fast. He felt feverish, almost sick. He coughed to cover the frog in his throat.
"Of course, I'm behind you, Brother Qing," he said. Qing lai gave him another beaming smile and led the way. Zhi Cheng suppressed with all his might the impulse to smash his head against the rock face so hard that it would split his skull.
I hate him, he cursed. I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, I HATE HIM!
A little later, he was sitting on the edge of the troop, listlessly biting into a mantou. He didn't really need human food, but under Qing Lai's worried gaze, he hadn't been able to say no, once again.
After nightfall, it got colder in the cave. The women and children huddled together, even the noble daughters allowed themselves to be warmed.
Zhi Cheng watched Qing lai out of the corner of his eye. The tall man radiated dignity even in his undergarments. He had sat down in the lotus position at the cave entrance and to the layman it looked as if he was asleep.
Zhi Cheng recognized the steady deep breathing, he meditated and spread out his mind. This allowed him to keep an eye on his surroundings, even with his eyes closed.
Zhi Cheng absentmindedly fanned himself and furrowed his brow. In the past eight hundred years, there were few mortals and cultists who could have matched him.
In this world, anyone who was five hundred years old or older and not a ghost or demon was considered immortal. They were cultists who had perfected their inner qi. However, they lived in seclusion in residences beyond the reach of earthly goods and were rarely seen.
Immortality could only be achieved with a pure spirit, and this could not be maintained for long in the mortal world. Longevity, on the other hand, was achieved by most cultists and ranged from an average of two hundred years to three to four hundred for the most determined.
Those who surpassed five hundred were promoted to Immortals. Martial artists, on the other hand, were mortals with a very short lifespan. Even if they steeled their bodies and were the most feared on the battlefield, their heyday was quite short.
In this life, it was only the white death that could perhaps really oppose him. And although the current supreme imperial general was a gifted martial artist, all his physical strength was of no use against Zhi Cheng's black magic.
Weijie, his successor on the throne, might one day have the power to match him if he carried on like this. For the life of him, that was all he could think of. Zhi Cheng took a deep breath and looked up at the cave walls.
"You're sighing as heavily as a grandmother," an amused voice sounded, as if someone was whispering directly into his ear.
Zhi Cheng looked up. He recognized the voice, he would always recognize it, it had burned itself into his memory and onto his skin, even in such a short time.
Qing lai took advantage of the natural formation of the cave. If he whispered something in one corner, it could be heard clearly in the other without others noticing. Zhi Cheng laughed.
"I'd be old enough for that," he whispered back.
"Brother Zhi you look fit and vital and not a day over thirty," Qing lai replied indignantly. Zhi Cheng laughed inwardly.
I've held up well, he thought.
"And you look no older than your mid-twenties, Brother Qing, and yet you fight as if you've done nothing else for a hundred years," he said quietly.
If he was one of the practicing cultists, he would betray himself now at the latest and then Zhi Cheng would show no mercy. Cultists who formed their inner qi into a core and strived for longevity had enough time to reach a level where they could become dangerous to him if he did not destroy them first.
So far, he had avoided attracting this kind of attention as much as possible, but Qing lai was... different.
"I'm twenty-eight!" Qing lai replied. "My adoptive father taught me how to fight. I always saw it as my duty to make him proud, but," he broke off.
Then he took a deep breath. "But I realized that this is not the right path for me," he finally said.
Zhi Cheng gave Qing lai a cold, calculating look. He listened to every tone of voice and every undertone, but couldn't detect a lie. A strange guy. A martial artist with talent and yet he dropped out in his prime because it wasn't the right path for him?
"And what path did you choose after that, Brother Qing?" asked Zhi Cheng.
"I want to travel and see the world and, above all, I want to explore life in all its colors and facets," he replied. Again, not a trace of a lie.
Zhi Cheng was frustrated. Was it possible to be so naive? What an idiot, he thought to himself. Someone like him had probably never had any difficulties in life or had to fight for anything. A spoiled brat who got everything he wanted and now fluttered freely around the world. He felt sick.
"Life is precious for any kind of existence. You only get this gift once. It cannot be replaced or exchanged. I could no longer reconcile this view with what I had to do and laid down my sword," Qing lai explained, sounding slightly melancholy.
Zhi Cheng swallowed. He wanted to kill this madman, to strangle him with his own hands. Qing lai disgusted him. Just one more question, just a small matter he had to settle before Qing lai would throw him off track again in his next murder attempt.
"When you saw me, Brother Qing, the first time at the carriage .... why were you smiling?" asked Zhi Cheng softly. He had closed his eyes and was concentrating fully on his voice. He heard Qing lai laugh softly.
"Your eyes!" he replied. "I've never seen such beautiful eyes. Like freshly fallen blood, so bright red and full of life."
The conversation was over. Zhi Cheng stood up and abruptly left the cave, disappearing into the back corridors.
Never seen anything so beautiful? Huh? He mocked. This crazy guy, he's not quite right anymore. Only a total nutcase would make such an association and then rave about it.
Zhi Cheng vigorously waved air at himself, but the heat in his face, neck and ears just wouldn't go away.
"Ai, such a ... I mean .... what does he want? Like freshly fallen blood .... oh, fuck you," he grumbled incessantly. He put one hand on his hip, waved the fan even faster with the other and paced up and down the corridor.
"Who does he think he is? I'll kill him ... yes, yes, that's the best thing. I'll slit his throat, I ..."
"Brother Zhi, did I say something wrong?"
Zhi Cheng whirled around as Qing lai entered the corridor behind him and looked at him worriedly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you," he said.
"Me? I get compliments like that all the time, this face is blessed by the gods," Zhi Cheng replied snappishly, turning his red head away from Qing lai.
The latter laughed out, louder this time, as he didn't have to pay attention to who heard him.
"I guess you're right about that. You have a healthy self-confidence. Then I certainly haven't embarrassed you," he said cheerfully.
"For someone like me, who roams the world as a healer, blood is nothing dirty or tainted. It is pure, pure life. When I saw your eyes for the first time, I couldn't help but think of it," he confessed.
Shut up, just shut up. Shut up, Zhi Cheng cursed inwardly as he felt his lust for murder evaporate.
"Brother Zhi I'll keep my promise, as soon as we reach the next town, I'll replace your clothes and invite you to dinner, does that sound fair?"
"Don't forget it, even if I drink you under the table, the bill will be high," Zhi Cheng returned. Qing lai laughed, nodded and turned to leave.
As soon as he was out of sight and the glow of his torch had disappeared, Zhi Cheng banged his head against the rock as hard as he could. He breathed in and out deeply before wiping the blood from his forehead and crouching down.
"Good, I might not kill him right away," he grumbled.