Hot flashes

He swung his sword at Xiao Jue. Xiao Jue dodged to the side, but tripped and stumbled. He regained his balance and swung his sword again.

Xiao Jue had no weapons. They had been traveling for days and had just been drugged, so they were exhausted.

He took a step back and stepped on a stone. He bent down, picked up the stone, and threw it at the tall man's face.

The taller man dodged the rock with his head tilted, but it hit his shoulder. He grunted and charged forward again.

Zhou Heng stood to the side, sweating profusely with anxiety. He looked around, saw a wooden stick on the ground, bent down to pick it up, and rushed over.

The shorter man caught up at this moment. He saw Zhou Heng holding a stick, grinned maliciously, and swung his knife at him.

Zhou Heng raised his stick to block. The knife struck the stick, making his hand go numb. He took a step back, and the shorter man swung his sword again.

Xiao Jue glanced this way. His eyes hardened, and he suddenly rushed forward, grabbed the tall man's wrist, and twisted it forcefully.

The knife slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

Xiao Jue caught the knife and swung it back at him.

The tall man's throat was slit, and blood gushed out. His eyes widened, his body went limp, and he collapsed to the ground.

On Zhou Heng's side, the shorter man turned pale with fright when he saw his brother fall.

He paused for a moment, then turned and ran.

Xiao Jue raised his hand and threw the knife away.

The knife flew several meters and pierced straight into the short man's back. The short man fell to the ground, twitched a few times, and then lay still.

The moonlight shone on the two corpses and the blood that covered the ground.

Xiao Jue stood there, covered in blood. Some was his own, and some was from others. The moonlight fell on his face, making it appear deathly pale, with a few drops of blood splattered on it, a horrifying sight.

Zhou Heng stood there, looking at him.

Xiao Jue slowly turned around.

Their eyes met.

Zhou Heng didn't move. He looked at Xiao Jue, at the blood on his face, and at the still-dripping knife in his hand.

Xiao Jue was also looking at him.

Those eyes, still bright in the moonlight. But something had changed. The sheep that used to follow him around calling him "Little Master" had turned into a wolf cub.

Zhou Heng walked up to Xiao Jue.

Xiao Jue looked at him, his lips moving slightly.

"They want to sell you."

Those four words were spoken very softly.

Zhou Heng remained silent.

He reached out and wiped the blood from Xiao Jue's face with his sleeve. Once, then again.

Xiao Jue stood there, motionless.

The blood was wiped away, revealing a pale face. Zhou Heng's hand landed on the side of his face, pausing for a moment.

"Let's go," he said.

Xiao Jue nodded.

Zhou Heng took his hand and walked out of the village.

Behind him were two corpses, a trail of blood, and a village shrouded in darkness.

The night wind howled, dispersing the smell of blood.

The two disappeared into the night.

It's almost dawn.

Zhou Heng dragged Xiao Jue along, their steps uneven as they made their way into the mountains. Xiao Jue's body grew heavier and heavier. At first, he could still walk on his own, but later he pressed his entire body against Zhou Heng's shoulder, his scalding breath spraying against Zhou Heng's neck, the heat almost frightening.

"Xiao Jue," Zhou Heng called to him.

Xiao Jue gave a muffled reply, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded.

"Don't sleep, talk to me."

Xiao Jue did not answer. His head drooped down, resting against Zhou Heng's shoulder, and the burning heat from Zhou Heng's forehead could be felt even through his clothes.

Zhou Heng's heart sank, and he quickened his pace. But Xiao Jue's body grew heavier and heavier, like a stone soaked with water.

Zhou Heng's legs had long since gone weak; the effects of the medicine hadn't worn off, and every step felt like walking on cotton. He gritted his teeth, dragging Xiao Jue along, and slowly made his way into the mountains.

As the sky began to lighten with the first hint of dawn, he finally spotted a cave.

The cave entrance was small, about waist-high, and partially hidden by a clump of thorns. Zhou Heng put Xiao Jue down on the ground and crawled in to explore first.

The cave wasn't deep, only about two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) in length. There was some dry grass on the ground, suggesting that someone had lived there before. There was also a pile of ashes in the corner.

He crawled out and dragged Xiao Jue inside. Xiao Jue's body was limp as a lump of dough. Zhou Heng grabbed his shoulders and infiltrated the cave inch by inch. Xiao Jue's back scraped against the gravel on the ground, and his clothes were torn in several places, but Zhou Heng didn't care.

After finally getting everyone inside, Zhou Heng leaned against the cave wall, panting heavily.

Xiao Jue lay on the ground, his face burning red, his lips cracked and bloodless. His brows were furrowed, as if he were enduring some immense pain.

His breathing was rapid and shallow, his chest heaving violently, and low, indistinct sounds came from his throat.

Zhou Heng reached out and touched his forehead.

The heat made him pull his hand back.

He paused for a moment, then placed his hand on it again. He touched Xiao Jue's neck and the back of his hand; they were both frighteningly hot.

Zhou Heng's heart sank deeper and deeper. The days of running around, the shock and fear, coupled with the trauma of that knife wound—this child had held on for too long; finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

Zhou Heng moved him a little further onto the haystack to make him more comfortable. Xiao Jue's body was trembling; he curled up, his teeth clenched so tightly they were grinding together.

Zhou Heng took off his outer robe and covered him with it. The moon-white robe was so dirty that its original color was no longer discernible. Xiao Jue was still trembling, curled up in a ball, his lips quivering, unable to make out what he was saying.

Zhou Heng bent down to listen.

"...Father...Mother..." The voice was very soft, so soft it seemed to dissipate with a breath of wind, "...I didn't...I didn't have time..."