There was a flash of hunger in the injured man's eyes, but it wasn't for food.
The look he gave Rouxi was raw, sharp, and almost childlike in its desire. Then something darker moved beneath it, an eager heat that made Yuche's fingers flex against the metal. The man looked at Rouxi through the flowers and vines like he had found warmth after freezing, water after thirst, meat after starvation.
The one thing he had spent his entire life looking for.
And for Yuche, that was a killing offense.
But before he could do anything, the stranger then dropped his gaze back to the cement beneath his feet.
His shoulders hunched forward even as his twisted hands curled against the road. His voice broke when he spoke, soft and ruined and shaped for pity.
"Please," the man begged. "Help me. I need help."
Yuche almost laughed.
He had seen his fair share of con men in his previous life as the head of a successful triad. But this guy was really trying to sell it.
