Whispers follow him in the market, especially when he walks alone. He's volunteered this time, no drawing of straws, to collect sweets for Qing and their friend. Both have such an insatiable sweet tooth and find such joy in small gifts, that Xingchen can hardly help himself. The words of strangers do not bother him; he gave his eyes to someone who needed them more than him. This blindness can be survived. In a world full of such darkness, he can still provide a light without his eyes.
He counts steps to the first produce merchant, but instead of dealing with him as usual, the merchant refuses. The wood of the shop table creaks and then something wet hits Xingchen's face.
Get out! Go!
Did- Did someone spit on him? Xingchen steps back first, fingers rising to his cheeks. Warm. Viscous. No metallic stench. The dregs of a meal. Liquor.
Spit. Someone spit on him. How unpleasant. But hate can never be conquered with more hate, darkness with more dark. Instead, Xiao Xingchen bows, turns back toward Yi City without completing the errand at hand. Halfway back, he comes across someone else. The last thing he wants is to be spit on again, to stink of another man's meat and wine, so he steps to the far side of the road, but the person steps in front of him, blocks his path.
xxc gets bullied by merchants and xy Disagrees
Whispers follow him in the market, especially when he walks alone. He's volunteered this time, no drawing of straws, to collect sweets for Qing and their friend. Both have such an insatiable sweet tooth and find such joy in small gifts, that Xingchen can hardly help himself. The words of strangers do not bother him; he gave his eyes to someone who needed them more than him. This blindness can be survived. In a world full of such darkness, he can still provide a light without his eyes.
He counts steps to the first produce merchant, but instead of dealing with him as usual, the merchant refuses. The wood of the shop table creaks and then something wet hits Xingchen's face.
Get out! Go!
Did- Did someone spit on him? Xingchen steps back first, fingers rising to his cheeks. Warm. Viscous. No metallic stench. The dregs of a meal. Liquor.
Spit. Someone spit on him. How unpleasant. But hate can never be conquered with more hate, darkness with more dark. Instead, Xiao Xingchen bows, turns back toward Yi City without completing the errand at hand. Halfway back, he comes across someone else. The last thing he wants is to be spit on again, to stink of another man's meat and wine, so he steps to the far side of the road, but the person steps in front of him, blocks his path.
Where is the cripple and the little blind?]
I want no trouble with you.