Comfort

Li Xiao slipped the empty porcelain vial into his sleeve, his gaze passing over everyone on the city wall before landing on a young man in the corner.

The youth was sixteen or seventeen, dressed in armor, his frame not yet fully grown, his features bearing a seventy-percent resemblance to Guardian Chen's.

Only, he lacked some of the steadiness tempered by the years, and carried more of a young man's greenness.

Chen An.

The son Guardian Chen had entrusted to him before his death.

Li Xiao walked over and stopped in front of Chen An.

Sensing someone approach, Chen An slowly lifted his head.

Li Xiao looked at that young face, fell silent for a moment, then crouched down to meet his eyes.

"Your father," Li Xiao said, not loudly, yet every word was clear.

"Died saving me."

"Your father was a hero," Li Xiao said, looking earnestly into Chen An's eyes.

Li Xiao reached out and pressed his hand to Chen An's shoulder. The warmth of his palm passed through the cold armor to the young man's shoulder.

"Are you willing to take me as your master?"

Chen An froze.

His eyes widened as he stared blankly at Li Xiao, as if he had not heard those words clearly.

The several defenders beside them were stunned as well, all turning to look this way, their eyes full of shock and envy.

To become a disciple of the Three Origins Sect—that was a fortune countless people could beg for and never obtain.

"I..." Chen An's voice trembled. "My aptitude is dull. I'm already sixteen this year, and only at the Second Turn..."

Li Xiao cut him off, his tone calm. "Your father said it too. He couldn't let go of you."

"With me here, even if I have to pile