The Faith and Salt

This little girl did not look like a Chinese kid at all, and she did not look like a Manchu either.

She had a pair of green eyes, and her nose looked like a large red plum. Xiao Yan thought this was from some sort of frostbite at first, but he noticed it stayed the same after several nights, and it’s impossible to get frostbite in this season.

Her hair was pure black, though. It hung down smoothly without any curls.

Xiao Yan quietly watched her sleep.

The night outside the inn was completely silent. No one talked, and only the faint sounds of summer bugs drifted in through the open window.

This guest room was spacious and airy. Fine silk sheets covered the large carved wooden bed, and a delicate set of white porcelain teacups rested on a smooth rosewood table.

His broken sword lay right next to the bed, while his cloth bag sat on a nearby chair.

A thin woven rug with simple, peaceful stripes covered the floor. The soft material felt great under his bare feet, and it filled the entire room with a light smell of cloves.

He looked at the sleeping girl again. He strongly suspected this child was not mute at all. But for some reason, she didn’t want to speak to anyone.

Perhaps that foreign missionary could try to amuse her and communicate with her, since they look alike.

That thought did not make much sense, really.

Doesn’t matter anyway.

Xiao Yan held so many questions in his mind.

Who is her father and mother?

And why did she even come here?

Or rather, why did her parents bring her to this dangerous place?

The night was very long, and the girl remained sound asleep.

But he could not keep her with him forever.

He had to send her away as soon as possible, within the next few days.

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Send her away…

This suddenly stung him. It brought back the exact image of his own mother sending him into a mountain temple.

Xiao Yan remembered the peeling gold paint on the Buddha statues inside the main hall.

The library building was empty.

It felt much more like a ruined historical site than a real temple. The stone steps were also in terrible shape. Half of them had collapsed, and thick tree roots poked right out from the broken edges.

He remembered all these small details perfectly for some unknown reason, but he had completely forgotten the people or what actually happened back then.

Xiao Yan had wondered for many years what this temple experience actually gave him. He had no answer at all.

He only remembered one specific afternoon.

An old monk was boiling wild orange tea in the kitchen.

The hot steam made the kettle clink loudly, but the monk did not move at all.

Xiao Yan reached out to lift the kettle, and he quickly realized the old monk was already dead.

A strange kind of power hid inside that moment, but he could not describe it.

He remembered that scene clearly, along with the heavy snow flying outside.

That year was so terribly cold, and it was the coldest year Xiao Yan had ever lived through.

He actually stopped hating his mother so much after that afternoon, or at least that was how he felt.

His memories were completely broken and messy, but Xiao Yan still needed to hold onto them as tightly as possible.

They were the only proof that he was still a human being.

He had a childhood, he felt loved before, and he had a mother, just like anyone else.

I’m not a monster.

Although the demon inside his body sometimes tried to invade his mind, including his memories. The evil thing wanted to change his past and make everything blurry, but he would never let this happen.

He looked at the little girl and somehow felt a very soft spot inside his heart.

Perhaps his own childhood woke up when he sang her to sleep just a moment ago.

Or perhaps other people simply showed less anger and hate toward him when he carried this child around.

This girl's existence was clear proof in some way.

She proved that Lieren, like him, still had real emotions and humanity.

A sudden warmth rose inside his chest as he looked at her sleeping face.

This fact had absolutely nothing to do with Chinese people, and he repeated this thought quietly in his mind.

She even had small brown spots on her cheeks.

These spots looked very strange to him, almost like some kind of skin disease.

That foreign missionary might know exactly what this was.

Xiao Yan felt torn and struggled with this idea, mainly because he really did not want to get involved with any foreigners.

However, this girl did absolutely nothing wrong.

Her lips were soft and pink, and her little fingers looked the same.

Everything about her seemed so full of energy and life.

Xiao Yan could easily picture her as a young woman in the future.

She would grow full, healthy, and playful.

She would have strong young skin and tight muscles, along with a pair of strange but beautiful eyes that made her special.

Her bone structure showed that she would even look quite strong with broad shoulders.

She fully deserved a normal life, complete with real parents and a happy childhood.

It should not be too hard to find someone connected to foreigners in Huai'an City.

Xiao Yan walked over to the room's open window. He lit up a thin bamboo tobacco pipe.

The night was still very long, and the girl remained sound asleep.