Sword of the Missed (SOTM) - 2. Chapter 2

With a gulp, Yan Rui turned his head away, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. He was no stranger to missing limbs and grotesque wounds, but to have such a gash on one’s eyes… He shivered just trying to imagine it.

Steeling his nerves, he turned his attention back to the person, who seemed to have a masculine look to him, even with his unkempt black hair and high cheekbones. His clothes were ripped and torn, showing numerous scratches on the skin, and they were soaked through, causing the man to tremble occasionally.

Now that he really studied him, Yan Rui saw that the gash didn’t seem to be directly on his eyes, but in the hollow just above them, and was crusted with blood and dirt, high on its way to becoming infected. He would be lucky if he could even move his eyelids ever again.

Holding a finger under the man’s nose, he sighed with relief at the faint sliver of breath that touched his cracked skin. It wasn’t too late to save him yet.

And though others may have just left him for dead, Yan Rui was far too kind to even consider doing such a thing. If he has the ability to save someone’s life, why shouldn’t he? It was good karma, anyways.

Maneuvering himself out from under the man, Yan Rui grasped beneath his arms, dragging him over to a nearby wall. The children all watched like hawks, saying not a word though their gazes were sharp. He looked around at all of them warily, before puckering up his face into a gross rendition of a monster, growling at them. With frightened cries, they ran off down the street, leaving them alone for the time being.

Returning his face to normal, he gently patted the man’s shoulder. “I’ll be back soon, don’t go anywhere.”

Turning, Yan Rui walked quickly towards a small hut on the other end of the street, ignoring the stinging in his own foot. The hut belonged to Chen Chen, the only healer to be found in the entire Nan Xian, or Nan County. A self proclaimed ‘miracle doctor’, the old man was an expert at cheating people out of their money or their scraps, regardless of age, gender or status.

But he was probably the only one who would be willing to help Yan Rui, for regardless if his actions were honorable or not, he never discriminated against anyone.

Lifting the ragged cloth that acted as a door, Yan Rui stepped inside, immediately hit with the cloying and diluted smells of crushed herbs. Covering his nose and mouth so he would not become intoxicated, the first thing he noticed was not the old man, but of the torches mounted on either side of the hut, burning a deep cyan blue. Had the flames always looked like that? He wasn’t around torches enough to know, usually working only by the light of the sun and moon outside.

“Hum. They been burning like that since yesterday,” a voice spoke from beside him, causing him to jump as he spun to see the old man. Chen Chen was bald, with old wrinkled skin and a few sparse grey whiskers, and his filthy hanfu that may have once been white.

“Lao Chen,” Yan Rui dropped to his knees, holding his hands in a begging posture. “Please help me save someone!”

Chen Chen tugged on his whiskers, his small eyes glittering like a rat’s. “Hum. Do I look like I work for free? What will you give me?”

Yan Rui felt in the pockets of his stained and destroyed ku, before he remembered he had eaten his last crust of bread hours ago, and by now it had likely already been digested.

“I..I..” He stuttered, feeling the pressure of the old swindler’s gaze and the dwindling life of the man outside. Glancing around, his gaze caught on the scattered herbs around the hut. “I’ll collect herbs for you!”

There was a moment of awkward silence, before Chen Chen began chuckling, the sound similar to a dying pig. “Hum. I like you. You may be uglier than a squashed roach, but you’ve got a keen eye.” Releasing his whiskers, he bared his yellowed teeth in a smile. “Hum. How about you owe me a debt, and I can call you to it any time?”

A nervous feeling fluttered in his chest, but Yan Rui had no time to regret his actions, leaping to his feet. “Deal!” Reaching out, he grasped Chen Chen’s hand, shaking it before releasing him, pointing out of the flap.

“There is a man out there with a big gash on his head, and several scratches on his body. He is also soaking wet, so a spare hanfu would be appreciated!”

The old man bustled around the hut, mixing up herbs into a ceramic cup of water while wrapping up cloth for bandages. At the mention of the spare hanfu, however, he paused, turning to stare at Yan Rui for a long moment.

“Hum. What do you think I am, a charity saint?” But he still went to a wooden chest in the corner, rummaging through it until he pulled out bright pink robes, decorated with small but crudely stitched birds along the hem.

“...”

“...”

“Hum. This did not come from a prostitute, if you were thinking that.”

Yan Rui tactfully remained silent, clearing his mind of any horrible thoughts regarding the origins of the robes. From what he had seen of the prostitutes of Tao Hua House, they would not dare to wear anything so tacky and obnoxious, but what did he know?

Taking the robes, the bundle of cloth and the medicinal tea, Yan Rui bowed. “Xie Xie, Lao Chen.”

Chen Chen merely grunted, waving him off as he turned his back, returning to his herbs. Taking the cue, Yan Rui rushed out of the hut, aiming to return to the wounded man as quickly as possible. The stinging in his foot had begun to fade, and he realized he had forgotten to ask for treatment for infection, but it was too late now. The situation at hand was more important.

As he drew closer to the place he had left the man, Yan Rui saw there were two figures standing near the wall, towering above a slumped figure he knew had to be the person he had left there. They both appeared to be men, dressed in similar rags, but they seemed to be fluttering their hands around their heads and making weird faces as he walked up behind them.

“Hey!” Shoving between them, he stood before the unconscious man, holding one palm out to prevent them from coming closer. “Leave him alone!”

One of the men leered at him. “Aw, come to take care of yer ge?”

The other one kicked at the foot of the wounded man. “How fitting, a blind brother for an ugly kid. If I had to look at ye everyday, I’d slash my eyes out too.” Both men guffawed, and Yan Rui flushed in anger and embarrassment. He wasn’t a kid, and that man wasn’t his brother, but it was useless trying to reason with jarheads like these.

The one who had leered caught sight of the pink robes clutched in his other arm, and he burst into another round of derisive laughter. “Hahaha, are ye planning to dress him up like a prostitute? He seems a little old for that, but if ye need clients I’ll be yer first!” His gaze raked over the slumped figure, and Yan Rui had enough, taking a deep breath as he set what he was holding down on the man’s lap.

Straightening, Yan Rui twisted his face into a grotesque imitation of a smile, tilting his head and twitching, all the characteristics of a crazy person. “Would you like me to serve you instead?” He reached out with a claw-like hand, and the two men quickly jumped back, shaking their heads with identical expressions of disgust. Muttering no’s and curses, they turned and bolted back down the alley, making signs to ward off evil all the way.

Schooling his expression back into a normal one, Yan Rui felt a slight twinge of sadness as he turned back to the wounded man. Unwrapping the bundle of cloth, he tore off a strip with his teeth, dipping it into the herbal concoction and cleaning up the gash with it. The man flinched occasionally, but made no sign of awakening, even as he dabbed the rest of the scratches on his chest and tied the remaining cloth around his head, covering his eyes. There was not enough cloth to tie around his chest, so he would have to leave them open to scab and heal on their own.

Moving at a steady pace, Yan Rui had already pulled the man’s torn underclothes off before he realized what he was doing, and he flushed an even deeper red. “Sorry,” he murmured, noting the strong shoulders and toned arms of one who practiced swordsmanship. How could such a well built man end up down here? Surely he would be better off in the Imperial Army or other militias.

Stripping off the wet cloth, he clothed him in the pink robes with quite a bit of jostling and moving around, for the man was definitely not light. Tugging the robes closed, Yan Rui sat back on his heels, admiring his handiwork. The man looked… queer, but he was blind, so hopefully he wouldn’t care too much. He would also need new underclothes so he wouldn’t be flashing his chest and manhood every time he moved, but he would worry about that later.

As he watched, the man began to stir, coughing weakly as he tried to lift his hand to his eyes. Yan Rui snapped to attention, grasping his hand before he could touch the strip of cloth.

“Ah, you shouldn’t do that! Your eyes were injured, so you cannot see right now.”

The man startled at the touch, his head turning towards the sound of Yan Rui’s voice. Instead of panicking like a normal person, he tugged his hand away, lifting the other so he could gently feel on and around the cloth covering his eyes. There was a sharp intake of breath from pain, and his hands fell back to his lap.

He opened his mouth as though to say something, but all that came out was a croak. Yan Rui grabbed the ceramic cup of the remaining medicinal liquid, and he guided it to the man’s lips, slowly pouring it down his throat as he tilted his head back.

Pausing for a moment, he then tried again. “..Who… you?”

Setting the cup down, Yan Rui touched the man’s hand to let him know he was still there, so as not to frighten him. “I am Yan Rui. Who are you?”

Without any reaction to the touch, the man tilted his head, thinking for a long moment. “Mu…” But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t think of anything else, and Yan Rui took pity on him.

“I’ll call you Senior Mu, then.” The man seemed to flinch at the term ‘senior’, but he slowly nodded.

“Shi.”

Yan Rui lifted Senior Mu’s arm, putting it around his thin shoulders as he struggled to lift him. After a moment, he seemed to realize what was happening, and helped stand up, holding most of his weight on his own feet. Despite his many wounds and not being able to see, he was surprisingly considerate.

“Come on, Senior Mu,” Yan Rui said, guiding him farther down the street one step at a time. “You can stay with me for a bit.”