116: Green Scale

Xiao Ding looked at the unshakeable determination in the young man's eyes, fell silent for a moment, and then let out a long sigh.

"Alright! Since Young Master Yu Han has made up his mind, my Desert Iron Mercenary Group will do its utmost to assist you. I will have someone immediately compile a desert map, information on the Snake-People Tribe's activity patterns, and the possible locations of the Reincarnation Grass in the Oasis."

"Additionally, I will assign a most elite squad to be at your disposal at any time. However, venturing deep into the Snake-People Tribe's holy city area…"

He shook his head, "Forgive my bluntness, but more people would make it easier to be exposed and create too large a target. With the strength of Young Master Yu Han and Instructor Ruo Lin, perhaps… traveling light and acting according to the situation would be more prudent."

He looked at Mo Yuhan and Instructor Ruo Lin for their opinions.

In truth, he was mainly looking at Ruo Lin, as any discerning person could tell that she would be the primary decision-maker for this expedition.

Instructor Ruo Lin nodded slightly: "What Leader Xiao Ding said is very true. A larger group makes for a bigger target and is less convenient. Intelligence support is the most crucial."

After the discussion concluded, Xiao Ding immediately arranged for people to gather the information and prepared two clean and tidy guest rooms for Mo Yuhan and Instructor Ruo Lin to rest.

Night falls quickly in the desert, shedding the daytime's scorching heat, and the coolness settles like water.

Mo Yuhan sat cross-legged on the hard wooden bed, closing his eyes to regulate his breathing and process the insights gained from the day's battle.

The Flowing Wind Sword intent seemed to encounter an invisible obstruction in the desert environment; the wind became hot and heavy, losing its ethereal agility.

He needed to adapt quickly.

Knock knock knock.

A gentle knocking sound came from the door.

Mo Yuhan opened his eyes: "Come in."

The wooden door was carefully pushed open a crack, and a timid little head peeked in.

A delicate light green dress adorned her, making her skin appear somewhat sickly pale. Her exquisite, melon-seed-shaped face was like that of a porcelain doll. At thirteen or fourteen years old, her features still held an un-shed childishness, yet strangely, they carried a hint of precocious, unripe charm.

Most striking were her eyes; the pupils were an unusual jade green, crystal clear, like the finest emeralds. Looking closely, deep within her pupils, three extremely tiny, eerie floral shadows seemed to be slowly revolving.

Mo Yuhan recognized the person at a glance; it was Qing Lin.

She held a copper basin full of clear water in her arms, and a clean cloth was draped over her arm. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on her delicate nose, indicating she had run all the way here.

Seeing Mo Yuhan's gaze fall upon her, she lowered her head abruptly like a startled fawn, her long eyelashes trembling violently.

Her fingers, clutching the copper basin, were slightly white from exertion. Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, filled with undeniable nervousness and inferiority: "Young… Young Master Mo… I… I'm here to serve you with your ablutions…"

Mo Yuhan's heart felt as if something had gently brushed against it.

He had long known of Qing Lin's existence, known that half of the Snake-People Tribe's blood flowed within her, and known how many cold stares, curses, and bullying she had endured in this human city.

Seeing her now, like a startled bird, that deep-seated inferiority and cautiousness stirred a strong sense of pity within him.

He softened his voice, trying to sound gentle and harmless: "Come in, don't be so formal. Just call me Yu Han."

"Yes… Young… Young Master Yu Han…"

Qing Lin still dared not look up, shuffling in with small steps. She placed the copper basin on the stand, wrung out the cloth, and held it with both hands, respectfully offering it to Mo Yuhan.

Her movements were very practiced, but this earnestness and caution were heartbreaking.

Mo Yuhan took the warm cloth and casually wiped his face.

Qing Lin immediately offered him the mouthwash salt and clear water.

Throughout, she kept her head down, not daring to meet Mo Yuhan's gaze, as if she were something dirty and unfit to be seen.

"Alright, thank you for your trouble."

Mo Yuhan handed the cloth back to her.

Qing Lin quickly took it, her fingers accidentally brushing against Mo Yuhan's hand.

The cool, slightly scaly texture made Mo Yuhan slightly pause.

And Qing Lin, as if branded by a hot iron, jerked her hand back, her body trembling violently. Her small face instantly drained of color, and her eyes filled with a look of utter terror.

She instinctively hid the hand that had touched Mo Yuhan behind her back, as if she had committed an unforgivable sin.

"I… I'm sorry! Young Master Yu Han! Qing Lin… Qing Lin didn't mean to scare you, Qing Lin deserves to die!"

She spoke incoherently, tears rolling down like broken pearls. Her thin shoulders convulsed violently, and her suppressed sobs were filled with despair.

In that fleeting glimpse, as Qing Lin pulled her hand back, he saw her light green sleeve slip, revealing the inner side of her wrist—a few pale green, small, and regular snake scales, gleaming with a faint cold light in the candlelight.

That was the mark she desperately tried to hide, seeing it as her greatest shame and fear.

Looking at the girl before him, crying almost to the point of fainting, seeing the bottomless self-loathing and despair in her eyes, Mo Yuhan felt no disgust, only a surging ache and anger.

He stood up, walked to Qing Lin, and knelt down to bring his gaze level with hers.

"Qing Lin." His voice was exceptionally gentle, carrying a power that could soothe fear, "Look up, look at me."

Qing Lin's body stiffened, and her sobbing stopped, but she still kept her head stubbornly down, her shoulders trembling even more violently.

"Look at me."

Mo Yuhan's voice was very soft, yet it carried an undeniable firmness.

As if touched by this gentle yet firm power, Qing Lin finally mustered all the courage she had, slowly, painstakingly, raising her head bit by bit.

Tears smeared her delicate yet pale little face. Her jade-green eyes were like emeralds washed by rain, filled with fear, fragility, and a despair as if awaiting a final judgment.

Mo Yuhan's gaze met her eyes frankly, without the slightest evasion, and certainly without the disgust and fear she was accustomed to.

In his clear dark eyes, there was only gentle, brotherly concern, and a deep… pity.

"Just because of these scales?"

Mo Yuhan extended his slender fingers, moving them with extreme gentleness, carefully brushing away the wet hair stuck to Qing Lin's forehead by tears, his fingertips avoiding her wrist to prevent further startling her.

His gaze fell upon her unusual jade-green pupils, as if trying to look into the depths of her soul, "Just because of this bloodline?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it exploded in Qing Lin's ears like a clap of thunder.

She stared blankly at Mo Yuhan, forgetting to cry, forgetting to be afraid, her mind a blank.

The expected curses, expulsions, disgust… none of them happened.

"Silly girl."

Mo Yuhan sighed softly, his tone filled with a tenderness that made one's heart tremble, "What's there to be afraid of? And nothing to be ashamed of. Bloodline is innate; you don't get to choose it. These scales…"

He paused, his gaze sincerely fixed on Qing Lin's eyes, speaking clearly, word by word: "To me, they don't look bad at all. Your eyes, especially, are the most beautiful and unique color I've ever seen, like the most precious emeralds in the desert, even more beautiful than the stars in the sky."

Boom!

Qing Lin felt an indescribable, scorching hot current suddenly erupt from her heart, instantly sweeping through her limbs and bones, shattering all her hardened shells of inferiority.

Her jade-green pupils contracted sharply, and the three tiny floral shadows deep within them seemed to be greatly stimulated, rotating fiercely.

A faint but strange wave of power flashed through her body.

"Young… Young Master Yu Han…"

She murmured, tears gushing forth again, but this time, they were no longer tears of despair.

Instead, they were mixed with shock, disbelief, and a warm torrent of being cherished and accepted, something she had never experienced before.

She looked at the young man's gentle, jade-like face before her, at the pure, genuine light in his eyes. Something called "hope," like a tender sprout struggling out of a rock crevice, timidly peeked its head out for the first time in her long-frozen heart.

Mo Yuhan raised his hand and with his thumb, very gently wiped away the tears from her face, his actions as natural as if he were tending to his own younger sister.

"From now on, in front of me, you don't need to hide or be afraid. You are Qing Lin, a very lovely and kind little girl. Do you understand?"

Qing Lin nodded forcefully, desperately, too choked up to speak. She could only bite her lip tightly, letting the hot tears stream down.

At this moment, this young man, though a few years younger than her, but already taller, seemed to become the only light in her bleak life.