That youth had knelt before his father, mother, younger sister, and more than thirty graves for half a day, like a numb stone statue, devoid of all life.
Mo Hua silently watched him for half a day as well before finally asking, "What is your name?"
Only then did a flicker stir in the youth's hollow eyes.
The Demonic Cultivators had died gruesome deaths, and his family had been buried. The bone-deep, hysterical hatred from that day was gone, but it seemed as though all spirit had been drained from him as well.
Hearing Mo Hua's question, he answered weakly,
"My name... is Tu Sheng."
His voice was faint and hoarse.
Mo Hua nodded slightly and asked, "What is your surname?"
The youth said dejectedly, "I don't have one... My father and mother said it didn't matter what surname I had. As long as I could eat a mouthful of food on this land and stay alive, that was enough. So I was called... Tu Sheng."
Mo Hua sighed softly and asked, "Do you have any family left in this world?"
The youth shook his head.
Mo Hua asked, "Where do you want to go next?"
The youth still shook his head.
Mo Hua then said softly, "Then come with me. I'll find you somewhere to settle down."
The blank-faced youth froze and looked up at Mo Hua. He seemed not to have expected this handsome young master, whom he had met only by chance, to say such things.
Yet he still shook his head.
Mo Hua asked, "You don't want to?"
The youth said, "I don't want to cause you trouble. I... am a lowly person. I can only find my own way to survive."
"And if you can't survive?" Mo Hua asked.
"Then..." A trace of relief actually