The Faith and Salt

Xiao Yan had been watching him since they walked in. The distance between them was cold, but the stare was absolute.

David didn’t dare turn around to meet it. Still, he felt the weight of it, pushing a rapid, heavy pulse against his ribs.

The air felt dense, making breathing take actual effort.

The scrutiny left him nowhere to hide, bringing a sudden spike of both dread and thrill.

He was terrified of those eyes, terrified the man might step closer. Just standing near someone with such brutally defined features made his hands shake.

Even so, he couldn't resist a glance.

God. How could a chest be that solid?

The heavy lines shifting beneath the frayed tunic offered just enough to trap his attention.

His gaze locked onto the sharp cut of the man's abdomen, watching the muscles expand and drop with each steady breath.

Taking a shaky breath, he looked up. Xiao Yan was still glancing his way.

Can he feel it? Am I being too obvious?

A sudden urge to apologize hit him, followed immediately by shame. What if the man had no such intentions at all, and this was entirely a delusion?

It was incredibly rude, especially after staring directly at the man's chest for so long. This was not how a gentleman behaved, let alone a missionary.

Shameless bastard. When will you finally rid yourself of this thug-like nature?

That harsh inner voice, however, did not belong to David.

He touched the silver coin in his pocket, thinking of the man who had originally given it to him. A sudden, deep depression settled in his chest.

Right. Why am I still like this?

At best, I will only end up hurting everyone who tries to help me, just like last time.

Heavy self-consciousness took over. He no longer dared to test the waters or return the look.

Maintaining a polite distance from Xiao Yan, David crossed his arms over his own chest, as if the posture could block the scrutiny and hide his dirty clothes.

He almost wished to be completely invisible.

At the very least, he wanted Xiao Yan to stop looking at him. He was in an absolute state, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole.

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A sharp sense of grief rose. The man beside him was flawless, while he felt entirely worthless and absurd.

Meeting someone like this at his lowest point felt like a cruel joke.

Carefully turning his head, David noticed Xiao Yan's attention was no longer entirely on him. The man was now discussing something in Chinese with Wei Yuan.

David felt a fraction of relief. Part of it was simply getting used to the situation.

Getting used to Xiao Yan's perfection and the cold distance between them. That small bit of familiarity gave him back a sliver of confidence, leaving him slightly less cramped and awkward.

Wei Yuan began introducing Xiao Yan in English.

David wasn't sure if he caught most of the information. He was distracted, still reeling from the lingering tension.

Every time Xiao Yan glanced his way, his heart rate spiked, and he knew his expression looked painfully unnatural.

From what he gathered, Xiao Yan was a warrior who killed monsters.

Good to know.

Liang Fa had previously mentioned that someone named Xiao Yan would be dangerous, though David had no idea if this was the same man.

Wei Yuan might have mentioned it, or maybe he hadn't.

David wasn't paying attention.

Whether this was the danger Liang Fa meant or not, he wouldn’t care. Just being this close to him, just being seen by him.

That was enough. He could only imagine him being dangerous in bed.

Besides, having an enemy like this would actually be stupid.

Not only was he completely overpowered by the man's presence, but it was also a terrible idea to fight against an imperial warrior.

"Now, you should introduce yourself," Wei Yuan told David.

Out of habit, David held out his hand, then froze. He had forgotten that Chinese people didn't shake hands.

Worse, his hand was an absolute mess. Months of harsh sea winds and the relentless Indian Ocean sun had left his skin tough and peeling.

The dead skin looked dark and unseemly.

He had scrubbed his hands as hard as he could earlier, but you couldn't just wash off layers of sun-baked damage.

Sure enough, Xiao Yan did not take his hand, instead offering a brief bow with a look of quiet resignation.

A heavy wave of frustration hit David.

Oh, you bloody fool.

What must he think of me?

Just a filthy brute.

Now, Xiao Yan's gaze felt entirely judgmental.

Looking back at the last few minutes, everything suddenly took on a different meaning.

What he had mistaken for tension now felt like pure hostility, disgust, and rejection from the very start.

I knew this would happen.

I always ruin the first impression.

His peripheral vision betrayed him again, dropping toward the dark, open triangle of Xiao Yan's chest.

When he quickly looked back up, their eyes accidentally locked. A fresh surge of shame burned through his blood.

God, man, just stop.

Make him respect you.

Stop humiliating yourself.

He was so exhausted with himself.

Wei Yuan led them toward the study, leaving David and Xiao Yan to walk side by side.

A heavy wave of awkwardness hit David again. Suddenly, it felt as though he had completely forgotten how to walk.

Xiao Yan moved in total silence beside him, not sparing him a single glance. David swallowed hard, not daring to turn his head either.

The short distance from the parlor to the study—perhaps twenty paces down a narrow corridor.

Felt endlessly long. He tried desperately to control his gait.

The Chinese probably have strict rules for walking, too.

I absolutely cannot mess this up again.

He tried to mimic Wei Yuan's steps.

The older man walked naturally, his Chinese robe giving him an easy grace.

In contrast, David’s own heavy missionary clothes felt stiff, clumsy, and ridiculous.

Has he already decided that I am just a clown?

Lost completely in his own head, David failed to notice the high wooden threshold at the entrance of the study.

By the time his heavy boot caught the raised wood, it was too late.

He pitched forward, falling straight toward the solid floorboards.

Oh, God—

Suddenly, a strong grip grabbed the back of his clothes, pulling him hard.