Chapter Text
At the bottom of the three-thousand steps of Sisheng Peak, a little boy around the age of six or seven slept on his side, body caked in mud and eyes covered with a dirty sheet of white ribbon. Sect Leader Xue Meng had just returned from a trip with a couple of disciples when he found him.
“A dead kid…” a young disciple shuddered. The rain was heavy, and for a weak, small child to be soaked from head to toe for no one knew how long, even if he wasn’t dead, he might as well be stuck in the realm between life and death.
Xue Meng crouched down with an umbrella in his hand and pressed his fingers on the child’s wrist. “What are you talking about? He still has a weak pulse. He’s not dead yet.”
A few of the smarter disciples rushed forward with a spare coat to warm the child and carry him, but who knew that their Sect Leader Xue who had always been so careful about not getting a single drop of rain and dirt on his robes would suddenly take the poor child in his arms, placing that tiny wet head against his chest like a doting parent.
Even the fast-acting disciples couldn’t help but stare.
“Prepare some clean clothes and a warm drink. I’ll take him to Tanlang Elder. Don’t dawdle, hurry up!”
They did hurry up. No one wanted a random child dying on the grounds of their sect, after all. The child suffered from high fever, but Tanlang Elder said that nothing too serious would happen as long as he stayed warm and taken care of.
“What happened to his eyes?” Xue Meng asked. He looked at the blanket-wrapped child on the bed, whose previously uneven breathing had begun to steady. Xue Meng remembered seeing tiny splotches of blood red on his blindfold.
“Seemed that he’s lost his eyes for a long time. The scars reopened a little, but there are no signs of infection. Just make sure they’re not wet for now.”
Was it an accident? Or was he abused? If he was abused, Xue Meng wanted to make sure whoever put such a young child into this sort of suffering would pay. And then maybe, if this kid had potential, it wouldn’t be bad to take him into the sect.
Xue Meng had only left the room for a few hours until one of the disciples appointed to watch over informed him that the sleeping child had woken up, in a better condition, but had refused to tell them his name.
“He’s probably still delirious from the fever to even remember his own name,” he clicked his tongue. Upon opening the door, he wanted to say more, but his chest tightened out of the blue, his heart inexplicably threatening to climb up his throat.
Of course who Xue Meng saw was just an ordinary child. He was sitting on the bed with his back propped up against the pillow, and in his hands was a cup of drink. He shivered lightly at the breeze when the door opened.
All very normal, but…Xue Meng thought his subtle mannerisms reminded him of someone familiar…
Someone gone.
He walked closer and sat down on the bedside.
“Water?” Xue Meng raised his eyebrows when he caught sight of the drink inside the cup. It was just plain hot water. “Can’t you guys give him some milk or something?”
“Just water is fine. Thank you.”
His voice was cute and squeaky, much like any other typical child’s voice. Even if he sounded very polite, there was still a tinge of adorable childlikeness in his speech.
“You’re just a kid, you have to have something more nutritious! Drink this. It’s soy milk,” he nonchalantly swapped the cup held by the child with a new one a disciple had just given him.
“…Thank you.”
“I’m Xue Meng. This is my sect, Sisheng Peak,” Xue Meng’s aura must have been far too imposing, because when he spoke, the child stopped sipping from his cup. He noticed this, and continued on with a softer voice, “I found you lying unconscious in the rain. What happened? What’s your name?”
He was met with reluctant silence.
“Tell me what happened. I’m a rich sect leader, if there’s anyone I should crush, just let me know.”
The child smiled hearing Xue Meng’s arrogant remark. “I’m just a poor orphan. I haven’t eaten in days so I fainted…sorry, I didn’t know this is your home…”
“Heh, see. Haven’t eaten in days and you still dared to tell me ‘just water is fine’. Anyway, what’s your name?”
He didn’t answer. Xue Meng had guessed that the child was too sick to say his name, or his disciples had been too intimidating when asking for his name, but it appeared that he truly didn’t want to say. “If you don’t tell me your name, then I’ll just call you little brat.”
Feeling wronged, the child turned his head to Xue Meng’s side. Although he obviously couldn’t look at Xue Meng eye-to-eye, and although a part of his face was covered by a blindfold, Xue Meng could outline the overall figure of this child’s face. To call a soft and cute-looking child a ‘little brat’…was extremely inappropriate.
“You can call me Xiao-Mei.”
“Wait, are you a girl or a boy?”
“…I’m a boy.”
“Oh, alright. I was just asking.”
The child nodded and continued drinking his soy milk. Something from the past chiseled through Xue Meng’s mind, sharp and painful in his chest like a sudden blow of a knife from a beloved one. Didn’t he also used to know someone named Mei?
That person has long become nothing but a long-lost, distant mirage, unattainable even if Xue Meng were to spend all his riches. Xue Meng didn’t even know if he was still alive, somewhere out there too far away from his reach.
Shi Mei…have you found your way home?
Xue Meng shook his head as if doing so would also shake off the sour feelings. “Where do you live?”
“I have no home,” Xiao-Mei answered. His answer was precise and quick, almost sounding rehearsed.
“All right, then you stay here and recuperate. I’ll think about what to do about you in the meantime. Go back to sleep. You still have a fever. Don’t act like you don’t, okay?” with that, Xue Meng took his leave in quick strides.
But from the gap of the door, a few moments before he closed it, Xue Meng sneaked one last look at Xiao-Mei and thought that child looked really, really sad.