Beneath the cloak was not Wen Chao’s arrogant, domineering, greasily handsome face—but a bald head swathed in bandages.
Wen Zhuliu peeled off the bandages layer by layer until the bald man’s skin was exposed. His face was marred by uneven burns and scars. It looked like he’d been cooked. He was so hideous, so ugly, that not a single hint remained of the man he had once been!
Wen Zhuliu took out a bottle of medicine and fed him several pills. Then he took out some salve and applied it to the burns on his head and face. Wen Chao whimpered in pain.
“Do not shed tears,” Wen Zhuliu advised. “Tears will make the wounds fester and the pain increase.”
Wen Chao had no choice but to hold back his tears, unable to even cry. In the tiny flickering firelight, the bald, burned man bared his teeth in a grimace, making strange, indistinct sounds. The lamp’s flame wavered on the edge of death, struggling bright and fading dim. It was a sight that was beyond horrifying.
Suddenly, Wen Chao let out a shriek.
“Flute! A flute! Is that the sound of a flute?! I heard him playing the flute again!”
“No!” Wen Zhuliu reassured. “It’s the sound of the wind.”
However, Wen Chao was already so scared that he’d fallen to the ground howling. Wen Zhuliu picked him up again. It appeared there was something wrong with Wen Chao’s legs, making him unable to walk by himself.
After applying the salve, Wen Zhuliu produced several steamed buns from his robes and handed them to Wen Chao.
“Eat. We’ll continue on our way once you are done.”
Wen Chao held a bun with both shuddering hands and took a bite. The sight reminded Jiang Cheng of the day he and Wei Wuxian had fled, of the tragic plight they’d been in, without a single bite of food to share between them. This was truly karma! Feeling buoyant, his lips curled into a smile, and he laughed madly and silently.
As Wen Chao bit down, a horrifying expression twisted his face. With a shriek, he hurled the steamed bun away.
“I won’t eat meat! I won’t eat it! I’m not eating it! No meat!”
Wen Zhuliu handed him another one. “This one doesn’t have meat.”
“I’m not eating anymore!” Wen Chao screamed. “Take it away! Get lost! I want to look for my dad. When can we get back to my dad’s place?!”
“At this speed, two more days,” Wen Zhuliu replied.
He spoke honestly, never exaggerating or falsifying his words. But it was this honesty that put Wen Chao in even more extreme misery.
“Two days?” he croaked in a hoarse voice. “Two days?! Look at the state I’m in. What will I look like if I wait another two days?! You useless thing!”
Wen Zhuliu abruptly shot to his feet, and Wen Chao flinched, thinking he was about to flee on his own. All of a sudden, he knew fear. One after another, every single one of his guards had come to a violent end before his eyes. Wen Zhuliu was the strongest of his defenders, and the last one he could count on. He hurriedly changed his tune.
“No, no, no, Wen Zhuliu…Wen-da-ge! Don’t go. You can’t abandon me. As long as you bring me back to my dad, I’ll get him to promote you to be the highest-ranking guest cultivator! No, I mean—you saved me, so you’re my da-ge. I’ll have him officially adopt you into the family proper! From now on, you’re my da-ge!”
Wen Zhuliu stared in the direction of the stairs. “No need,” he said.
Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng also heard what he did. The sound of footfalls echoed from the post station’s stairwell, one after another.
Someone was walking up the stairs. One step at a time.
All the remaining blood in Wen Chan’s burned face instantly drained away. Shaking, he extended both hands from his cloak to cover his face, as if he was scared enough to think he could protect himself by being blind to what approached. But his hands were stumps—not a single finger remained!
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The newcomer slowly ascended the stairs. Dressed entirely in black, he cut a slender figure. There was a flute hanging at his waist, and he walked with his hands clasped behind his back.
On the roof, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng gripped the hilts of their swords. The person finished making his leisurely way upstairs and turned to look at the room’s occupants with a smile.
The moment Lan Wangji laid eyes on the guest’s bright, handsome, and familiar face, his eyes widened in disbelief.
His lips quivered, and he mouthed a couple of words. Jiang Cheng almost sprang to his feet right then and there.
Wei Wuxian!
But aside from the face, nothing about this person resembled the Wei Wuxian they once knew.
Wei Wuxian was a bright and exuberant youth, with a hint of laughter forever at the corners of his eyes and his lips. Furthermore, he had never been one to walk so properly. This person was shrouded in gloom and biting cold. He was handsome but ghastly pale, and his smile could only be described as sinister.
The scene unfolding before their eyes was too unexpected to process. They could not act rashly, with the situation still so unclear. Though shocked beyond belief, the pair on the roof did not rush in recklessly but merely craned their necks closer to the cracks between the tiles.
Inside the room, the black-clad Wei Wuxian slowly turned around. With his face covered, Wen Chao’s voice failed him and he could only wheeze out a single phrase.
“Wen Zhuliu…Wen Zhuliu!”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes crinkled, and the corners of his lips slowly curved up. “Even now, you think calling him will be of any use?
As he took a few steps closer, his foot hit something white. He looked down—it was the meat bun that Wen Chao had flung away earlier.
Wei Wuxian quirked a brow. “What, are you getting picky now?”
Wen Chao collapsed to the floor from the stool and let loose a piercing screech. “I’m not eating it! I’m not eating it! I’m not eating it!”
As he wailed and shrieked, he crawled along the floor with his fingerless hands. The black cloak slid down his lower body as it dragged along the floor, revealing his legs, which hung under him like burdensome decorations. They were fully wrapped in bandages and looked abnormally thin. His violent movements tugged open gaps in the wrapping, exposing the ghastly white bones hidden beneath. There were a few lingering gobbets of flesh hanging off them, fresh with bright red blood.
His legs had been stripped raw of their flesh. And considering the evidence at hand…that flesh had likely been forced into Wen Chao’s own mouth!
Wen Chao’s shrill screams echoed through the empty post station. Wei Wuxian gently lifted the hem of his robe and sat down at the other table, acting like he didn’t hear a thing.
The second oil lamp sputtered faintly to life. Before the bright yellow flame, half of Wei Wuxian’s face lay in the light, while the other half remained in darkness. He lowered his hand, and a deathly pale face materialized from the darkness under the table. Crunch, crunch. They heard the sound of chewing.
A small, pale child crouched at his feet. He was gnawing on something Wei Wuxian had tossed him, like a carnivorous little beast.
Wei Wuxian reached out to give the pale child two gentle pats on his sparsely-haired head. Carrying the treat in his mouth, the ghostly child turned around and sat at Wei Wuxian’s feet. He hugged Wei Wuxian’s calf, chewing ferociously while glaring at Wen Zhuliu with frosty, glinting eyes.
The ghostly child was gnawing on two human fingers. Needless to say, they must have been Wen Chao’s.
Staring at the sinister ghost child and the equally sinister Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji tightened his grip on Bichen’s hilt.
As always, Wen Zhuliu stood before Wen Chao, shielding him. Wei Wuxian’s head drooped low, making it impossible to read his expression.
“Wen Zhuliu, do you really think that you can protect his shitty life from me?”
“I will die trying,” Wen Zhuliu replied.
Wei Wuxian sneered. “What a loyal Wen dog.”
“I owe a debt of gratitude for their recognition,” Wen Zhuliu stated. “It must not go unrepaid.”
Wei Wuxian’s tone and expression turned abruptly sinister. “What a joke!” he exclaimed sharply. “And why must others pay the price for your debt?!”
Before he finished, Wen Chao’s shrill, piercing wails rang out from behind Wen Zhuliu. Wen Chao had crawled to a corner of the room and desperately pushed himself against the wooden planks, as if he could squeeze himself through the cracks by doing so. But all of a sudden, a figure dropped from the ceiling with a heavy thud. It was a ghostly pale woman with long hair who had fallen on him. The bluish tint of her bloodless face, her vibrant red robes, and jet-black hair stood in glaring, terrifying contrast to one another.