"I heard he was sent over from the south."
"He's actually still alive? What luck."
"I heard he'd been hiding in an interlayer and wasn't blown to death, but his teacher died, and he was crippled too. Leave him alone and he won't be far from death anyway."
"Wasting so much medicine on trash like that?"
"Doesn't he still have hands? Everywhere is short on people. Trash has its uses too, otherwise why would he have been sent here?"
"Shh, keep it down... that guy is looking over here!"
"What are you afraid of? Look, he's even smiling at us."
Amid the rolling heat waves, thunderous rumbling never ceased.
Ji Jue grinned foolishly at the two apprentices. Unfortunately, his burned face no longer held any handsome warmth. Instead, it was ugly and savage; where the scars split apart, crimson blood seeped out.
It stabbed into the two men's eyes.
The trivial whispers came to an abrupt halt.
How wonderful. Being ugly had benefits like this too. He had experienced it.
Ji Jue withdrew his gaze, propped himself on his crutch, and hobbled forward, trying to pick up the pace.
The middle-aged man leading the way heard the tapping quicken. He looked back at him and slowed down slightly.
Seeing him struggle to maintain a smile, he sighed and merely said, "Most people who come here are like this. They talk too much. Once everyone gets familiar with each other, it'll be fine."
Ji Jue nodded and revealed a smile suited to his role.
Miserable, with a trace of fawning.
The middle-aged man looked away without the slightest reaction, as though he had long grown used to weakness and humility.
Inside the enormous factory-like workshop, they were already on the lowest level. It was sweltering and damp, and the air