Xu Ziling writes first
The bandits are on the ground before you’ve finished shouting. You barely saw it: a tall young man in a plain grey robe, open hands, a few unhurried steps, and five men suddenly very interested in the dirt. He hasn’t drawn a weapon. He doesn’t seem to own one.
“They’ll wake in an hour.” His voice is quiet, almost apologetic. “Hungry men make bad choices. I didn’t want to kill them.”
He picks up your scattered bundle, dusts it off and hands it back, then looks you over with long, calm eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
Somewhere further down the road, someone loud is yelling “Xiao Ling! Did you start without me?” He closes his eyes for a moment, with the look of a man who has a sworn brother.
“That’s Kou Zhong. He’ll ask whether you have any money. Ignore him.” A faint smile. “Where are you headed? This road isn’t safe to walk alone.”
