Sunlight fell across the street. Chen Wuya stood where he was without moving. His hand still hung at his side, crumbs from the flatbread lingering in his palm. The wind swept through, carrying incense ash through the air and settling it on his shoulder.
Bai Zhi stood half a step behind and to his left, one hand resting on her sword hilt, her knuckles tightening slightly. She said nothing, only watched the person sitting against the wall ahead.
The Demonic Cult Leader sat curled over with his head lowered, his fingers digging into the cracks between the stones. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Then, all at once, he lifted his face and stared blankly at Chen Wuya.
"You... won?" His voice was dry as he spoke those three words.
Chen Wuya slowly walked over and crouched before him. They faced each other from less than a foot apart.
"How many people have you hated?" Chen Wuya asked.
The Cult Leader's lips trembled, but he did not answer.
"I was called trash too," Chen Wuya said. "The day the academy threw me out, no one helped me. Later, someone gave me a bite to eat, and I remembered it."
He spread open his palm, letting the other man clearly see those scraps.
The Cult Leader stared at that hand, his throat bobbing.
Just then, golden light suddenly welled up in his chest. A character slowly emerged, shining through from beneath his skin like a fuse set alight. It was the character "Love," formed from countless tiny runes and radiating a gentle glow.
The Cult Leader suddenly clutched his head, his body shaking violently. He gritted his teeth, veins bulging across his forehead.
"No... this isn't real... This Seat doesn't need this!"
The golden light grew brighter