Du Yulin's heart suddenly softened at his words.
She looked up at Wang Xian's profile as he lowered his head to whittle arrows. Sunlight fell across his face, lending a trace of warmth to that sickly pallor.
"What a load of nonsense!" Shaking her head, she laughed, then giggled. "I'm probably the only one who'd believe you."
Wang Xian did not argue. He merely smiled as the little knife in his hand continued to glide over the purple bamboo.
"Shopkeeper, let me tell you—if you only trust your own eyes..." He paused quietly, then suddenly said, "One day, someone might sell you off, and you'd still help them count the money."
Du Yulin stiffened at his words, the smile on her face freezing.
"Who told you that?"
Wang Xian fell silent for a while.
"I forgot." He sighed softly. "There are many things I've forgotten... Huh, it seems I already knew how to embroider before. Could it be that the shopkeeper awakened my memories?"
He shook his head after saying that. Muttering to himself, he gripped the little knife and began carving the bamboo arrow.
Du Yulin stared blankly at him, unable to speak for a long while.
Only then did she truly believe that this fellow before her had probably learned embroidery before—or rather, before he met her, he had not yet been blind?
But for a living person to suddenly lose both eyes and still live with such care, such composure—what kind of heart did that take?
She recalled what her master had said before passing away: some people's eyes were blind, yet their hearts remained bright; some people's eyes were bright, yet their hearts were blind.
Outside the window, the autumn wind suddenly rose, sweeping up several fallen leaves.
That summer, Azure Dragon Town appeared peaceful and