Zhexiu appeared much worse off than Chen Changsheng had imagined. His body that was as hard as metal was covered in wounds and caked in dust.
Chen Changsheng took a handkerchief from his sleeve and passed it over as he curiously asked, "How did you make it through?"
Zhexiu expressionlessly said, "Not countering if struck, not retorting if taunted, only walking forward."
Chen Changsheng wondered, "This way is also fine?"
Zhexiu replied, "Perhaps he might have just killed me."
Chen Changsheng commented, "…This doesn't match up with your personality."
Zhexiu answered, "It can change."
As a child, he had been regarded as a devil and exiled from his tribe. He struggled between life and death, fighting for survival.
Zhexiu had never been somebody that cared about the gazes of others, much less what the word 'normal' meant. He had a most cold and frigid personality.
