[it's by sheer luck they picked someone who cannot defend themself all too well; po xiao tries, he really, truly does and yet isn't able to do much damage. (which is fine because they probably assumed he had no fight in him at all, so this was a surprise attack!) although, it's not quite one of those either to be honest, much to his distress.
nevertheless, with the barest escape at freedom, he takes it, scrabbling forward on his hands and knees. this is ordinarily where he'd feel out his bamboo rod to regain some semblance of balance but instead, he just keeps moving until he can clamber upright and make a mad dash forward with both arms out. if he runs into anybody, it'll be at full force, maybe knock someone off-kilter to give him another chance at escape, even though it does not seem fortune favors him enough for such things as one of the men is already closing in rather quickly.
he can hear him and while po xiao wishes he were faster, that's just simply not the case. a hand clamps down on his shoulder, wrenching him backward, which prompts him to use the momentum to at least drag his attacker down too. they hit the ground hard, rolling once, the bandit gets an elbow to the face and in return, po xiao's going to have a shiner. with all ideas wasted and what little energy he'd had left expended, he's hauled up, dragged a couple feet then deposited back into the dirt before the others.
there's a mixture of dirt and blood in his mouth, he can taste them both, wrinkles his nose with disdain though what's that matter when there are people currently discussing his murder? yes, βmurder,β he'd heard them right, and it's what coaxes him into sliding away again while he believes they're distracted once more.
but just as quickly as it'd started, everyone hesitates whenever another set of footsteps approach, move past where he's sat and toward the group of thieves who'd been chattering amongst themselves. at first, po xiao's almost certain that metallic tang of blood is from him; not once did it occur to him whoever has come to his aid might be injured too. right now isn't the time to ask, given this newcomer's βi lack the patience right now to ask kindly a second time.β despite his apprehension, he exhales a shaky sigh, hoping the audible snikt! of a blade isn't for him. βanother blind man,β someone says and for a moment, his head whips in xiao xingchen's direction just in time to confirm what he'd been smelling actually was this man's blood. how will he fight if injured? if he is blind?
stiffening uncomfortably at this realization, he curls his fists in the dirt, wondering what sort of cruel joke this is, but also considering what it means if it's real. more weapons are drawn, causing him to initially shrink down further like if he becomes small enough, he'll disappear.
and yet xingchen strides forward to meet them anyhow, handles everything like a pro even, leaves most (if not all of them!) dead. oh nope, not all, as there is certainly one man who's crying pitifully at their mistake while fleeing for his life. everything going into momentary silence is somehow both a relief and unnerving, but when asked if he's alright, he answers,] I... I think so? [attention tilting xingchen's way, po xiao blinks, considering, expression shifting to surprise at the trailed-off sentence. quiet as it is, the sound of him hitting the ground on his hands and knees has the younger male springing into action, scrambling around then forward as he gropes through the dirt for his bamboo rod.]
No, no, you needn't apologize, [he insists.] You're injured, you can take all the time you wish. [ah, there! his fingertips find the stick, fumble briefly, all digits circling and lifting itβ just as xiao xingchen hits the ground.] Haah...? A-Are you alright? [honestly, he doesn't need to wait for an answer to already know his rescuer's unconscious.
well, it can't get any worse, can it? (thank goodness, it doesn't start raining or anything silly like that.) po xiao shuffles closer, uses both hands and worms them beneath xingchen's shoulders, hooks them underneath his armpits then lifts. whomever they are, they don't feel too heavy, and getting himself standing with the other man on his back doesn't prove nearly as difficult as he would've assumed earlier. walking will be slightly awkward, he's well-aware it won't matter since the inn he'd been headed to before isn't miles away.
carrying him upstairs, however, does prove too much. thankfully, the kind old woman helps him set xiao xingchen up in another room where he sits, cleaning his neck wound with the utmost carefulness and patiently waiting for him to awaken.]
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nevertheless, with the barest escape at freedom, he takes it, scrabbling forward on his hands and knees. this is ordinarily where he'd feel out his bamboo rod to regain some semblance of balance but instead, he just keeps moving until he can clamber upright and make a mad dash forward with both arms out. if he runs into anybody, it'll be at full force, maybe knock someone off-kilter to give him another chance at escape, even though it does not seem fortune favors him enough for such things as one of the men is already closing in rather quickly.
he can hear him and while po xiao wishes he were faster, that's just simply not the case. a hand clamps down on his shoulder, wrenching him backward, which prompts him to use the momentum to at least drag his attacker down too. they hit the ground hard, rolling once, the bandit gets an elbow to the face and in return, po xiao's going to have a shiner. with all ideas wasted and what little energy he'd had left expended, he's hauled up, dragged a couple feet then deposited back into the dirt before the others.
there's a mixture of dirt and blood in his mouth, he can taste them both, wrinkles his nose with disdain though what's that matter when there are people currently discussing his murder? yes, βmurder,β he'd heard them right, and it's what coaxes him into sliding away again while he believes they're distracted once more.
but just as quickly as it'd started, everyone hesitates whenever another set of footsteps approach, move past where he's sat and toward the group of thieves who'd been chattering amongst themselves. at first, po xiao's almost certain that metallic tang of blood is from him; not once did it occur to him whoever has come to his aid might be injured too. right now isn't the time to ask, given this newcomer's βi lack the patience right now to ask kindly a second time.β despite his apprehension, he exhales a shaky sigh, hoping the audible snikt! of a blade isn't for him. βanother blind man,β someone says and for a moment, his head whips in xiao xingchen's direction just in time to confirm what he'd been smelling actually was this man's blood. how will he fight if injured? if he is blind?
stiffening uncomfortably at this realization, he curls his fists in the dirt, wondering what sort of cruel joke this is, but also considering what it means if it's real. more weapons are drawn, causing him to initially shrink down further like if he becomes small enough, he'll disappear.
and yet xingchen strides forward to meet them anyhow, handles everything like a pro even, leaves most (if not all of them!) dead. oh nope, not all, as there is certainly one man who's crying pitifully at their mistake while fleeing for his life. everything going into momentary silence is somehow both a relief and unnerving, but when asked if he's alright, he answers,] I... I think so? [attention tilting xingchen's way, po xiao blinks, considering, expression shifting to surprise at the trailed-off sentence. quiet as it is, the sound of him hitting the ground on his hands and knees has the younger male springing into action, scrambling around then forward as he gropes through the dirt for his bamboo rod.]
No, no, you needn't apologize, [he insists.] You're injured, you can take all the time you wish. [ah, there! his fingertips find the stick, fumble briefly, all digits circling and lifting itβ just as xiao xingchen hits the ground.] Haah...? A-Are you alright? [honestly, he doesn't need to wait for an answer to already know his rescuer's unconscious.
well, it can't get any worse, can it? (thank goodness, it doesn't start raining or anything silly like that.) po xiao shuffles closer, uses both hands and worms them beneath xingchen's shoulders, hooks them underneath his armpits then lifts. whomever they are, they don't feel too heavy, and getting himself standing with the other man on his back doesn't prove nearly as difficult as he would've assumed earlier. walking will be slightly awkward, he's well-aware it won't matter since the inn he'd been headed to before isn't miles away.
carrying him upstairs, however, does prove too much. thankfully, the kind old woman helps him set xiao xingchen up in another room where he sits, cleaning his neck wound with the utmost carefulness and patiently waiting for him to awaken.]