The night was deep, and Blackwater Town's bitter wind swept coarse sand across its dilapidated streets.
Under the dim lamplight, Yun Qing propped his chin on one hand behind the counter of A Little Shop. His other hand, its joints well defined, flicked the abacus beads into a clattering rhythm.
The clack of abacus beads carried far through Blackwater Town's night, mingling with distant barking dogs and the slurred curses of a drunkard railing at someone or other. It did not sound lonely.
Blackwater Town was nothing like Great Xia's Imperial Capital. There, a lamp lit meant peace for countless households beneath the Human Emperor Way; here, a lamp lit could at most illuminate the three feet of muddy water outside one's door, letting the owner see whether anyone had died in front of the shop that night.
Yun Qing lowered his head and flicked the abacus twice.
"One Origin-Congealing Immortal Herb, starting at thirty thousand high-grade Spirit Stones by this world's market prices."
"Attempted theft, half its medicinal potency damaged. Fifteen thousand Spirit Stones."
"One night in the Firewood Shed. Meals charged separately." Another bead snapped into place.
Looking at the string of figures in the ledger, Yun Qing could not help chuckling softly.
"If this child lived out an ordinary mortal's life, even a lifetime working as my servant probably wouldn't cover it."
The rear courtyard lay in darkness, the Firewood Shed door standing ajar.
Ye Hui curled up on a pile of dry grass, his head resting lightly against the wall and his teeth clenched. He was desperately absorbing the medicinal power of the "Meridian-Congealing Grass" he had stolen that day.
Rebuilding severed meridians was no different from grinding flesh and blood apart inch by inch, then stitching them back together. Beads of cold sweat rolled from