Chapter 8

A beacon of light pierced through the mullioned panes of glass, bathing the polished wooden tiles on the floor in a crisscross of iridescent colour; illuminating the darkened room.

The sun streams in like a flamboyant guest, not waiting for an invitation. The sunlight beamed through the white blinds, presenting the morning sun against Ying's sculpted face.

The morning sun had kissed him awake. Slivers of light peeped through the drawn blinds, casting thin golden stripes across his angelic peaceful face.

He opened his eyes and slowly, drowsily. All the memories of just before came rushing back like a wave. His eyes snapped open. Panic evident on his face.

Ying finally let everything sink in, his eyes wide open, every thought in high definition. His eyes take in every ray of light and without a doubt he knows he has slept too long. The more anxious he became the more pronounced became his intellectualization of the whole process.

He rationalized and viewed the problem from different viewpoints. He took in a deep breath, trying to assess his situation.

The small cottage was perched on the plain near the woods, so old and poor that it was surprising how it was still standing. And yet it seemed alive and welcoming, a warm ribbon of smoke rising from the old chimney.

The walls were made of the same wood and the roof was clearly stone, so old that it was a wonder how it did not yet cave in. The cottage was the only thing there. There were no other houses around it, and this one would have looked abandoned if not for the smoke.

Although the outside looked shabby the interior was simply gorgeous. It is as if they had purposely made the outer walls look wrecked as to not attract attention. The place was isolated, a large pond was near the small shack. It was simply genius.

On the veranda sat plants that reached up past the cedar railings and branched out gleefully into the sun, enjoying their fair-weather home.

Every one of them had a pleasing shape and glazed in the same vibrant shades of blue he accented his home with. Some were like snapshots of midnight and ribbed like waves.

Others were classically smooth, widening to a rimmed top, brilliant cyan glaze clinging to them like animal skin and dripping down the sides to add just the right dash of chaos.

Against the deep browns of the wood, these simple pots were stunning just as he knew they would be when he stood in the store. They were simply gorgeous.

The river is a slice of mellow harmony amid the fragrant leaves. It flows like time, always onward, always toward its destiny.

One day these placid waters will enter that great ocean, each drop a vital part of what becomes the mighty aquatic world. In the shade of the boughs we wade in, feeling the welcome kiss of coolness, watching the eddies that swirl and disappear. The water surface is livened by brief crescents of white that are fish arcing as they swim.

His eyes travels downstream, caressing the dapples that bring the shine of the water to a hue so homely. Ying was looking out the window in a daze.

His mind drifting off like a cloud. Trying to figure out what he was going to do. It seems he would be stuck here for a while.

For some reason his body was in responsive and he couldn't mood. The phoenix he had summoned before apologized profusely just as Ying had awoken.

It was perched outside as it couldn't fit in the tiny house. Ying found it rude if he just got up and left. The wounds that littered his pale body were all bandaged. Ying wanted to express his thanks.

But he did question why we was stripped of his clothes, until he was left in his under garments. Maybe because his clothes were soaking wet.

Ying heard the wooden door of the house creak open. Cocking his head towards the sound a handsome young man who stood by the doorway. Piercing ruby red eyes stared at Ying, not even blinking.

Sunlight shone on his back casting a shadow. The platinum haired ger squinted his eyes trying to see what his saviours face looked like. But it was no use, his face was covered.

There was awkward silence between the two until Ying opened his mouth to speak. "Pardon but are you the one who saved me. I am eternally grateful. Sorry to have troubled you." The other male simply nodded. The attractive male waltzed in with his prey on his shoulder.

Suddenly a low growl could be heard. Ying looked at the tall male in front of him chuckling softly. Although the stone faced man looked unphased his ears turned red.

"As a token of my appreciation I'll cook you a meal. Do you have any clothes on you I could borrow?" A large wool coat was checked at him. All the other clothes were to large for the petite male. With that he slowly got out of bed using the wall to try and stabilise his wobbly body.

Seeming to notice the young males trouble the crimson haired male lifted him up placing Ying on a nearby chair. Although the smaller male was embarrassed it couldn't be helped. He would probably trip over himself.

The sound of chopping and bubbling water could be heard through the dead silent room where even a pin dropping could be heard.

A fragrant aroma filled the small hut. The sound of the grumbling that sounded like a low roar go louder causing the injured ger to laugh heartily. A fire was set to cook the meat.

The yellow flames flickered and danced with no thought of the oxygen or the fuel they consumed. Juices flowed out, it looked simply scrumptious. He held a wooden platter towards her.

There was a piece of warm bread with a slab of melting yellow butter and a thick, hearty slice of roasted pork. The red-haired man gracefully ate his meal. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your name? I'm Ying Yue but feel free to call me Ying." A tender expression was worn on the youngers face.

"Jiang Han." Is all he said. With that they continued to eat in silence. Ying got up to clean all the dishes. But ended up stumbling forward as his body hadn't fully recovered. Someone hastily caught him.

Wrapping a muscular arm around the others small waist. They stared at each other, not even moving. As if time had stopped and only, they existed in this world for a split second.

Realising what he was doing Jiang dropped the ger causing him to crash to the floor with a dud. Although he had an expressionless face his eyes betrayed him.

They had panick, worry and guilt etched into them. The platinum haired male wasn't angry, on the contrary he found it quite funny.

The sight of the cold looking male bending down helping him pout. Ying smiled brightly, it was as if flowers bloomed around him. Jiang stared at him before turning away bashfully. The corners of his lips turned upwards.

How long had it been since he enjoyed another's company? But after they knew his true identity this person in front of him would surely shy away. Like how everyone else did. After his past was filled with blood shed.

Wanting to get away from it all he fled into the isolated woods. Leading him to become the infamous bandit known as "Crimson Slayer". The lonely male wanted to at least enjoy the moment while it lasted.

Ying noticed the sombre expressions on the others face. As if he had been sucked into an pitch black abyss. Alone, no one there for him. It reminded him if the past him. So much that it pained his heart. He staggered to the crimson haired male and engulfed him in a warm hug.

No words needed to be said. This one action held all that needed to be said. It told a million world. As if all the pent-up frustration flew away even if it was only for a moment. The wind whistled in the background.

Although Ying didn't really know his saviour it didn't matter to him. When he was at his lowest, people extended a hand to him. Leading him to the brighter side. Away from the cold darkness. The pain that almost swallowed him. The sorrow buried deep in heart.

His parents told him bad things in life can't be predicted. There will always be hardships, life isn't and always easy. So, turn all the bad things in life and make them good. If you have bad bananas turn them into something good, like banana bread. What point is there in brooding and moping in sorrow.

It may take time to pick yourself up, Ying just wanted to be a helping hand. When receiving kindness return it to others. The wind whistled in the background; a ray of sunshine shone on the duo who enjoyed the peace.

The two if them parted, although it was a little awkward the atmosphere around them was more relaxed. Ying knew he had to return to his son quickly. Who know what has happened to them? Imagining his baby bun bawling thinking his mother was dead was heart breaking.

Ying cried his heart out knowing his parent were gone. Bai was too young to go through that pain.

They probably have already left the mountain as it has probably closed. How many days had he been out for? Ying guessed it was around three days. Wang seemed like a trustworthy person although the silver haired male hadn't known him for long. There was no time to waste.

Each minute counted. He had already wasted enough time. But he couldn't get far in his condition. There was only one option left.

With a serious expression was his face the ger said "Please I'm begging you. Help me find my son. I'll be sure to repay you for everything you've done. Whether it be money or power. I'll do everything in my capability to do it." His eyes held determination, not wavering at all.

The bandit nodded his head. The red eyed male started packing his belongings. Ying started to heal his wounds with his powers. It drained him but he continued pouring qi into his body until most of his wounds healed. His body was still paralysed. So Jiang had to carry the lighter male on his back.

The hills that lie friendly in the day - like the pillows of the land - are darkly ominous by night. The paths that were illuminated just hours before becoming lost in a blackness that even moonlight cannot help.

The trees that are magnificent in sunshine tower over James as he steps across the borderline between the seen and unseen. Choosing not to go in is no choice at all, but aren't all quests like that?

With that the long, vigorous and tiring journey began.

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Jiang Han also known as the "Crimson Slayer"