Chapter1: The Blind boy, Quentin Lee (2/2)

"Young Master, I'll go now, right now."

"What did you do back there?"

"…"

"Just a dead maid, isn't it no biggie. Make that blind little wretch leave!"

For a long long time, Lee had been staring blankly at the sky, sitting on the steps of the house with his hand holding the coins.

He then walked down the steps, arduously lifted the stiff corpse onto his back, turned away and left here.

"Creak… creak…" The sound of his footsteps echoed on the snowy ground, slow yet resolute.

All this was observed by an old man in a nearby tavern not far away.

The old man was dressed in a simple gray robe, with his hair and beard white as snow.

His nose was high and straight, his lips thin but not the least bit harsh.

There was no sign of weariness in his face, yet his eyes were incredibly clear.

On the table were a few small dishes and a jug of warm wine.

As he watched the boy groping his way along the wall, the old man's hand holding the wine cup suddenly paused in mid-air.

A barely perceptible gleam flashed in the elder's eyes, he murmured softly to himself, "I never thought that the one I've been searching for for hundreds of years would turn out to be a little blind boy…"

"Well, well, fate maybe."

Then the old man slowly stood up and called out in a rich, harmonious voice, "Waiter, check please!"

In twelfth lunar month, the wind from the north was biting.

To the blind boy Lee, the gusts felt like piercing knives.

He rested several times along the way, and when night fell the boy placed the stiff corpse in front of a clinic.

The gray-robed old man, still in his thin clothes, seemed to part the wind and snow as he walked.

"She's dead, the souls and spirits had entered reincarnation, why bring her to the clinic?" He murmured.

Before long, the boy came out of the clinic, held a few packs of herbs in his hand and, with great effort, lifted the corpse again and continued on his way.

Next, he arrived at a small shop with white streamers hanging at the entrance.

Soon, the boy came out carrying a jar, a piece of paper pasted on it. It says "Treeway Lee" on the paper.

He wrapped it with the girl' s pink clothes, and his face showed little emotion throughtout.

On the way to the next place, he picked up two rock-hard steamed buns at a bun shop's door.

He hadn't showed a hint of a smile on the face until now.

It puzzled the old man who had been following him. Why did the boy show no emotion over the death of his sister and only insist on the compensation, but smile for finding two unwanted buns?

The old man's curiosity was completely piqued, and he continued to follow the boy.

Suddenly The old man stoped and looked up at the sky.

With a calm expression, he softly said, "Tut, I did nothing but only destroyed a sect a short time ago, now the Grand-Protector Mage of Peklam is coming in person."

"Merely Nascent Soul stage, might as well meet, to save both sides some trouble."

With Only one step, the old man traversed dozens of miles in an instant, and showed up in a wilderness pavilion.

There was another old man in brocade robe seemingly waiting for a long time, with tea and wine prepared in front of him.

Upon seeing the old man, the Grand-Protector Mage hastily stood up and bowed respectfully, saying, "Greetings, senior."

The southern of Peklam City

In a dilapidated courtyard which its main gate couldn't even close, a small boy hesitated at the doorway for a long time. Finally, he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

"Creak..."

There was no light, it is pitch-black in the room with bare walls and windows riddled with holes that haven't been repaired due to lack of funds.

On the cold bed, a shadow moved slightly, followed by a weak voice.

"Quentin... is it you?"

The voice, though gentle, sounded exceptionally feeble. It belonged to Quentin Lee's mom, Wendy.

She looked haggard with sunken cheeks. Yet, her gaze towards the boy was full of tenderness.

Bathed in moonlight, she softly asked, "Where's your sis?"

They boy's body tensed in a sudden as he searched for candles in the drawer, then lit one, illuminating the lone earthenware pot beside him.

"Sis... she's dead. They compensated with ten strings of copper coins." In a hoarse voice, he responded. "I've retrieved and hidden the money, they will be used for mother's treatment."

With that, the boy took out a slightly melted bun from his bosom and handed it to his mom.

Groping the herbs and walking to the kitchen, he said in a raspy voice, "Let me make medicine for you."

Wendy grasped his hand and placed the bun in it.

Holding back her tears, she said, "I am not hungry. You should eat."

Though her hair concealed much of her fce, Quentin heard a few drops of tears hitting the mat.

"Bang!!"

The door was kicked open, and a chilling gust rushed into the house.

Quentin started to tremble, unsure whether it was because of the cold or fear.

The intruder was Lee's distant uncle, Daxton Lee.

The man was short and had protruding cheekbones, triangular eyes, and a hooked nose.

Wearing a navy blue jacket, he exuded an air of ferocity. Even before entering, his menacing voice came from afar.

"Fuck! Where the hell is the money?!"