"That child has never killed anyone." He spoke in a calm voice. "From now on, he belongs to Xiaoyao Pavilion. Just pretend he never existed."
He took the lowest-level Xiaoyao Pavilion token from his chest and casually tossed it to the woman.
"This is a Xiaoyao Pavilion token. If Evil Soul Masters come looking for you in the future, take it to the nearest Xiaoyao Pavilion. Someone there will protect you."
The woman fumbled to catch the token and stared at him blankly.
Xu Yanli said no more. He turned around, crouched down, and met the boy's eyes.
"Can you walk?"
The boy stared at him for a long while, then nodded faintly.
Xu Yanli held out his hand.
The boy looked at the clean, slender hand, then at his own, covered in mud and blood. He hesitated for a moment, but finally placed his hand in Xu Yanli's.
Xu Yanli took his hand and gently pulled him to his feet.
"Come on. Take me to your home."
The boy lowered his head, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. "...I'm the only one left at home."
Xu Yanli's fingers tightened slightly, then quickly relaxed.
"Then take me to see it."
The boy's home stood at the very edge of the village: a crooked adobe hut, its thatched roof half bald and its door hanging askew, creaking whenever the wind blew.
Xu Yanli stood at the entrance, looking at the house that seemed ready to collapse at any moment. He was silent for a long while.
"Let's go inside," he said softly.
There was nothing in the house. A bed built from adobe, with some dry grass and a tattered quilt of indistinguishable color spread over it; a few chipped bowls piled in the corner; and a stove so