Du Xiaoyu stood by the well, silently counting the seconds while gripping the pulley wrapped in hemp rope, ready to haul it up at the first sign of trouble.
Qi Si, you'd better come back up. I've already offended that brat Shang Qingbei. If it ends up being just the two of us, who knows what he'll do to me...
Du Xiaoyu muttered to himself. When he reckoned the time was about right, he hurriedly turned the pulley, winding the rope up coil by coil while silently praying, God, Buddha, please bless me. Don't let me haul up a corpse or a ghost.
Though his heart was full of unease, his hands remained steady.
He had never held a proper job these past years, but he had never missed a single fight either. Supporting one person's weight with both arms only left him slightly out of breath.
Half a minute passed, and the rope had nearly been fully reeled in.
A pair of pale, slender hands gripped the edge of the well, their fingers digging fiercely into the stone wall, the knuckles turning bluish white.
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Du Xiaoyu felt that those hands had been wrinkled by soaking in water, like a water ghost that had just surfaced from the depths, ready to drag someone from a boat down to die in its place.
The terrifying thought lasted only an instant. The next second, the person below poked his head out, then somewhat sluggishly braced himself against the well's edge and climbed out, swaying as he got to his feet.
The young man who emerged from the well still had the same black hair and white shirt as before, except his eyes had become deeper, and the scarlet glow had vanished.
Noticing Du Xiaoyu watching