The boy was covered in thick, foul-smelling blood from head to toe, but the middle-aged man didn't mind; he just sighed and put away the box in his hand.
"Sleep, child, just treat this as a nightmare. When you wake up, it will all be better."
The middle-aged man's voice was gentle. He lightly patted the boy's shoulder with his broad palm but was afraid that if he applied too much force, he might hurt the boy's fragile body.
The boy obediently closed his eyes. In his drowsiness, he heard the middle-aged man ask, "What's your name?"
"Yuan..." the boy mumbled in his sleep and soon drifted off again.
"Yuan." The middle-aged man repeated the name, silently keeping it in his heart.
This was the most peaceful sleep Yuan had since he could remember.
No need to return to that dark and eerie dungeon, no need to see that man in the Dragon Robe, and no need to worry that upon waking, he'd see his brother lying on the ground, unsure of life or death...
