Not a word was said the whole journey.

After returning to the inn, shutting the door, and lighting the lamps, Fu Shen sat dazed in a chair following his bath. Yan Xiaohan came out only a bit later and hugged him from behind, chin pressed against the top of other’s damp head. “Not happy?” he asked quietly.

Fu Shen loosely encircled his fingers, feeling that his own hair was quickly about to fall out from anxiety. “What does this count as? I didn’t kill the man, but he died because of me.”