Xu Quan studied the face carefully.
He looked for so long that, to an outsider, it really seemed as though he had taken a fancy to the handsome young slave and meant to keep him for himself.
"He has quite a distinctive face," Xu Quan said.
The salt merchant fawned, "He certainly is a rare beauty."
If he hadn't been afraid of getting beaten, he would have copied a brothel madam and given the young slave a proper introduction. He'd practically have thumped his chest and told Xu Quan that fancying this boy showed excellent taste and a refined eye! The merchant tried to rein himself in, but greasy flattery still seeped out through the tiny eyes squeezed into slits by his rolls of fat. Xu Quan didn't know what "greasy" meant, but looking at him still turned his stomach.
He impatiently waved his little hand.
The dashing female general on horseback lifted her chin.
"This general asks you: what's your name?"
The young slave pressed his thin lips together, stubbornly refusing to speak. The salt merchant secretly pinched him.
The young slave shot him a murderous glare.
Xu Quan asked again, "What's your name?"
At last, the young slave spoke, his voice harsh and dry, with a rasp to it. "Th-this lowly one has no name..."
The salt merchant tried to smooth things over, wearing a fawning smile. "General, slaves are usually like this. Without names, no one wants them. Heh, since you like him, why not bestow a name on him?"
At those words, a faint ripple stirred in the young slave's placid eyes. Xu Quan naturally had no spare time for such a thing. He'd only asked offhandedly. What did it matter to him whether a slave had a name? Still, he did want to satisfy his