Once he washed off the dirt and grime, he wrapped a thick roll of bandages around his chest and put on a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants.

Fuxiao buried his face in the golden sash that Topan had given him. It still faintly smelled of him. The memories of their time together flooded into his entire being. Fuxiao missed him. Fuxiao wanted to hold him. The only solid rock that gave him comfort in this period of uncertainty because it was easy to believe that all they had to do was fight to survive and not give a care to the world around them.

He tied the sash around his waist. The silver tag around his neck glimmered in the light. A piece of his past. But there’s no need to try so hard to remember a past he didn’t care about. Right now, he had to figure out where he was and where they had locked Topan up. If the verbal exchange during the fight was true, they must have kept Topan in some isolated place.

To cut him up and study him.

The mere thought shook his insides and before he could stop himself, his Bloodline markings appeared on his face. The black gemstones twisted and rolled, unable to contain the fury inside. He gripped onto the golden sash.

I’ll find him.

We’ll escape from here and go to his homeland together.

Indeed, they were so close to reaching the homeland just over the hills before the Lord and the Captain found them.

Fuxiao tilted his head, glaring at the reflection in the mirror, shadow casting onto his face. The little golden speckles in his dark eyes flickered.

He should find the Lord, stab him and make him bleed. He should separate that arrogant face from the body, let the crimson red blood stain his perfect royal blue clothes. Do it all in one swift motion so that there was no time to think.

He should kill Lord Senjahari.

Once Fuxiao exited, the doctor ushered him to sit at a bench.

“May I draw a vial of your blood?”

Fuxiao shot a glare at her, “Why?”

He no longer bothered to hide his hostility towards the people of Cahayaranga. They were the people who hurt Topan and forced them apart.

“For a medical checkup. I understand that you will be heading back to Shewei but while you are recovering here in the Sunrise Boundary of Cahayaranga, we have the responsibility of making sure all travellers do not have any contagious illnesses.”

Unable to refute the explanation, Fuxiao rested his arm on the table, allowing Doctor Melati to poke him with a syringe. Setia had long disappeared when he returned from the bathroom and he was glad he didn’t need to see the Lord’s close aide, less it fueled the hatred burning inside.

“And seeing that a young woman like you hardly clothed–pardon me–I will have to ask if you had any sexual intercourse with the prisoner out in the wilds.”

“I’m a man.”

“Oh,” Doctor Melati glanced at Fuxiao but returned her attention to the syringe again. “I apologise, and I mean no offence when I ask, but from a medical perspective, it is better to take precautions because you still have a functioning female body.”

Fuxiao paused for a moment before saying, “It was mutual.”

Doctor Melati clasped the vial and placed it in a medical container. While that wasn’t the answer to her question, she decided to let it slide. “I understand. If you ever feel any discomfort, please seek me immediately.”

The doors burst open and a nurse rushed in. “Doctor! Emergency! A scout group attacked by the hudoqs!”

Within seconds, the medics set up the surgical stations and received the first group of injured soldiers. Rushed chaos replaced the tranquillity of the hospital.

“They’ve barely escaped but injuries are severe!”

Doctor Melati made quick works of her nimble fingers using her Kanchil Bloodline. Her stitches flew with precise accuracy, closing up wounds to prevent further blood loss. But one person couldn’t save a whole army. As more and more wounded soldiers arrived, the nurses unleashed each of their respective Bloodlines to assist as best as they could.

“Hold her down!”

A soldier thrashed on the bed. Her body was covered in burn marks, sizzling between her screams of pain. Every cell in her body mutated to fight off the black matter seeping into her veins. A beast’s survival instinct kicked in at death’s door, giving up everything simply to live another day. Her Bloodline fought and fought, preventing the black matter from damaging the body and in doing so, the Bloodline exhausted all of its life force.

The fur around her face retracted. The black matter dissipated.

Her screams quickly turned to wretched sobs as the pain subsided; a signal that her Bloodline had gone dormant as it fought its last battle to survive.

That was the first time Fuxiao witnessed a Bloodliner turn into a Dormant because of the hudoq’s black matter. Alive, but at what cost?

More and more injured soldiers were brought in but Doctor Melati couldn’t see to all of them. The wounds bled. Soldiers screamed.

Fuxiao zeroed in on the horrible gashes. If left untreated, the soldier would have to amputate his arm.

Should he try to use his white threads and stitch them up?

Even though he didn’t know the extent of his abilities, he was confident that he could at least fix the physical injuries.

No.

He wasn’t going to risk exposing his Bloodline. He wasn’t going to attract any attention to himself. He had to remain in the shadows, unseen, and only run when the time was right. If a few strangers would die so his secret remained safe, so be it.

“Horrible, ain’t it?”

A young man with olive skin and curly blond hair plopped onto the bench next to Fuxiao. Large doe eyes. Soft grinning cheeks. An oversized red coat hung onto the small body covered in rough scars and stitches to keep the limbs together, burn marks crawling all over. The wound on his leg appeared fresh, as though he had just hopped off the surgical table. A body that had gone through hell and back. A body that refused to break down no matter how many explosions it had endured.

Just like Fuxiao’s.

“Doesn’t matter what Bloodlines they have, once the black matter eat ‘em away, they’re nothing but useless, pathetic Dormants. Rather than coming back here, they shoulda die out there. Ain’t no reason to live without Bloodlines.”

The young man forced himself into Fuxiao’s personal space.

“What are you?”

“Excuse me?” Fuxiao said.

“What’s your Bloodline?” The young man’s pitch rose, excitement running wild.

This time, Fuxiao didn’t answer. Not like he could answer if he wanted to.

“You smell… different. Is it because you’re a foreigner? You’re definitely not a Dormant. You kinda… remind me of Lord Senjahari.”

The declaration turned Fuxiao’s blood cold. He couldn’t chance his gaze away from the young man’s widened pupils as though he was hypnotised into an all-seeing abyss.

“I’m not related to the Lord.”

“Oh-ho, of course! Lord Senjahari is the youngest prince of the Cahayaranga Kingdom, so there’s no way you–a foreigner–have any direct connection to him.”

“Then why bother asking?” Fuxiao shifted to put some distance between them but the young man only pressed further.

“Because you smell interesting.” A wide cheshire grin broke across his face, “Your Bloodline smells interesting.”

The young man’s intense stare was different to the Lord’s domineering glare or the Captain’s spiteful contempt. It was pure curiosity. It was unabashed desire.

It was unsettling.

There was no murderous intent but someone with an unknown goal could always cause unintentional cracks in the plan.

Plan?

What plan?

The backdoor of the hospital swung open and a large man hurtled in. “Yuda! Stop messing around!”

“Oh, Baja, what’re you doing here?” The young man–Yuda–finally shifted his attention from Fuxiao to the unwelcomed man. “You’re all fucked up like that, Doc’s gonna kick you out.”

Dirt and oil smudged on Baja’s leather apron, staining his black shirt and pants. The smell of metal and coal stuck to his ruggard arms and he belatedly removed his dirty working gloves as he entered the sterile hospital wing.

“You’re still recovering from your injuries anyway. Leave that man alone.” Baja moved to grab Yuda by the arm but the smaller man dodged with ease.

“Get your dirty Dormant hands away from me.” Yuda cackled, “This ain’t no place for a weakling like you. Go back to fucking ‘round with swords or whatever you’re hitting. Maybe if you hit ‘em long enough, you’d be a fraction as strong as me.”

A vein popped on Baja’s neck. “Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

“Make me.”

Baja’s muscles bulged with extreme tension as he shot daggers at Yuda’s childish provocation.

Staying here any longer was useless. Fuxiao stood from the bench and siddled his way towards the back door but it was impossible to escape Yuda’s attention.

“Are you going out? You okay enough to walk, right? Right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Then let’s go hang out! I’ll show you ‘round town!”

Before Fuxiao could refuse, Yuda dragged him out by the arm.

He had wanted to leave the hospital wing and look for Topan but the sheer force of Yuda’s shamelessness left him no room to rethink his plans.