Zhe Huo thought back to see if she’d missed anything. That seemed to be all of it. She sighed. “Alright… I’ll let out some blood for you to drink every day.”
This was when something else occurred to her. “Ah! Hold on, Qinghan! That guy from the medicine shop never mentioned anything about after-effects! How could it be that something so strange is happening to you?”
Luo Qinghan’s nose twitched, then turned bright red in moments. He looked up at Zhe Huo with big, misty eyes. “Maybe it has something to do with that time I got hurt when I was little…”
This statement brought a hush to Zhe Huo’s voice. Full of trepidation, she inquired, “You… were hurt?”
“Back then, when those hunters were after me, I ended up losing a lot of blood.”
This struck Zhe Huo right in the heart. For such a young boy to have suffered something so terrible… so overcome with sympathy was she, that she didn’t wonder at all about what sort of connection there was between losing blood and drinking it.
She’d been planning to be stern with him, but now she was falling all over him with pity. The traumas of his childhood could have left lingering scars to this day. She couldn’t endure that one bit.
In the end, just as usual, Qinghan fell sound asleep in her warm, comforting embrace.
The next morning, Zhe Huo awoke to find that Qinghan was no longer in bed. Groggily, she got up, washed herself, and got dressed.
Just before she left the room, a sudden memory caused her face to flush red, and she hurried back to rummage through their packs until she found a yellow-green chiffon shawl, which she wound around her neck. The trailing end of the shawl hung down beside her sleeve, and she twined her fingers idly around it as she walked out.
The early morning sunlight was dazzling, and there were already quite a few people down for breakfast, although it hadn’t gotten too noisy yet. Looking around, Zhe Huo quickly spotted the tiny little figure in the gray cap, standing beneath the counter. A moment later, the innkeeper appeared with an assortment of tantalizing treats.
It appeared that Qinghan had asked for breakfast to be brought upstairs, because the boy turned to lead the way back to their room. Zhe Huo waved as she rushed to intercept them. “Qinghan, let’s just find a table so we can eat downstairs!”
Qinghan looked up at her voice, and found the refreshing sight of her long yellow dress, her sweet smile like the sunrise lighting up the room. He beamed and nodded at her.
They sat down to breakfast, and as Zhe Huo munched on a bun, she talked about their plans for the day: “After this, we’re going to go sell the ice demon at the demon hunter conclave, and then we’re gonna go out on the town and have fun!”
The boy stared intently at the wispy yellow cloth wound around her neck, and barely made a soft grunt to acknowledge what she was saying. He poured out a cup of tea, and pushed it over to her.
Something was odd, here. Zhe Huo hurriedly received the cup of tea and gulped down half of it. Then she set it down, and realized what was wrong. She turned and blinked at Qinghan’s plate and chopsticks, which had both remained completely untouched this whole time. “Qinghan, why aren’t you eating anything?” she wondered aloud.
“I’m already full.”
Her confusion deepened. “When did you eat?”
Qinghan sniffed, his eyes remaining utterly transfixed upon her neck. “Last night.”
Zhe Huo traced the path of his gaze, and realized what he’d been staring at. She gave a sudden start, blushing deeply. “Qinghan!”