The Killer Shall Have No Heart Chapter 2

"Father Shu Heng, a merchant in Jingzhou, mother Laura, whose identity is unknown."

"Is it him?"

"Not sure, I haven't seen it either. I need to observe it more."

"I have finished my work. You can take him away and observe him slowly."

"Oh... that won't do..."

Sam suddenly gasped, as if he was possessed by a nightmare, and vaguely heard the voices of two men talking. One of them was a stranger, and the other was the killer who showed up halfway.

As soon as Sam moved, the conversation between the two stopped.

Sam's eyelids were so heavy that he couldn't lift them up. The hot air from his breath seemed to burn people. At this moment, his head was dizzy with fever and he uttered some meaningless mutterings.

"Water...water..."

In a trance, there seemed to be a heavy figure in front of him, and the footsteps were getting closer and closer, until they came in front of Sam and stopped. After a sound of clothes rustling, a cold hand suddenly pinched Sam's jaw and forced his face up. The next moment, a bowl emitting a strong smell of medicine was pressed to Sam's mouth, and the medicine was poured into his mouth roughly and directly.

"Ugh... Ugh!! Ahem..."

The medicine was pungent and bitter, and the moment Sam took it, he almost jumped up. However, the hand pinching his chin seemed to weigh more than a thousand pounds, holding him down. He struggled desperately and could not move!

Sam waved his hands violently with a look of pain on his face, but the man had no sympathy at all and poured a lot of medicine into Sam's nasal cavity.

"Hey, can you feed me the medicine more gently? Someone who doesn't know would think you are interrogating me."

The strange man suddenly spoke, and then Sam heard an impatient "tsk" sound, and the man released his jaw.

Finally getting a chance to catch his breath, Sam fell to the ground in agony, coughing and retching uncontrollably, his face covered in tears and snot, looking extremely miserable.

After coughing for a long time, Sam finally opened his eyes. He found himself in a woodshed with hay spread under him. It was late at night. A candle was lit on the window, and the shadows of the two men in the house almost covered the entire room. The flickering of the candle looked very strange.

A tall man in nightgown with half his face covered took the half-empty medicine bowl and sat down next to Sam with a amiable look. He twisted the smooth spoon with his slender fingers and stirred the medicine.

"You're awake now. Fortunately, your fever isn't high. You're lucky. You'll be fine after taking some medicine and sweating. Come, take the medicine first."

The man scooped a spoonful of medicine and was about to feed it to Sam, but when the medicine reached his lips, Sam turned his head away.

"Ah"

The man leaning against the window with his arms folded and watching coldly sneered, full of sarcasm.

The person feeding the medicine was not embarrassed, and smiled and said, "Don't resist. This medicine was indeed prepared by a doctor. We are here to save you on the orders of our superiors. You may not believe it for now, but you have to drink this bowl of medicine."

After that, the man added: "My name is Grant, Xiao means rustling grass and trees, and Grant means difficult to cross the mountains and rivers."

Grant Xiao pointed at another person, "His name is Connor, the Cong that means King and clan."

The man being pointed at seemed a little speechless, and said casually: "I've given her to you, deal with her yourself, and don't bother me anymore."

After saying that, the man named Connor turned and left. The wooden door, which was already broken and leaky, was slammed like a dying old man. Under the gaze of Sam and Grant, it trembled and creaked back and forth, and finally stood firm.

"He has a bad temper, but he is reliable. Don't mind it." Grant brought the medicine to Sam's mouth. Sam hesitated for a moment, then lowered his head and drank it obediently.

Grant showed satisfaction and asked, "Can you hold the bottle and drink it yourself?"

Seeing Sam nod, Grant gave the medicine bowl to Sam and stood up to close the door.

Sam held the medicine bowl, leaning against the mottled and slightly damp wall, his eyes following Grant all the way, as if he had something to say.

Grant used a stick to lighten the candle a little, then turned back to Sam, sat cross-legged, put one hand on his knee, and pulled down the mask with his fingertips, revealing a resolute and handsome face with a little stubble on his chin. He looked at Sam intently.

Sam's scalp tightened, and his hand holding the spoon trembled. The porcelain bowl was knocked against the ground and tinkled. Suddenly, Grant said, "I know what you want to ask. I have already contacted my fellow disciples to deal with the two cars of children. They will be sent to the orphanage. You don't have to worry about that."

Sam was stunned for a moment, and after a long while he slowly nodded and carefully drank a sip of the medicine to relieve the burning and dryness in his throat.

"I'm going to ask you something. You need to answer me seriously without lying, or I'll kill you."

Grant asked in a serious tone, "Are you Sam, born on the twelfth day of the winter month of the twenty-fourth year of Mingguang?"

Sam's eyes moved slightly and he nodded in response.

"You're from Jingzhou? Your father is Shu Heng, one of the four largest merchants in Jingzhou, and your mother is Laura, who married your father and gave birth to you in the same year?"

Sam paused this time, and after some hesitation, he said in a hoarse voice: "I don't know. My father doesn't like my mother and has never mentioned this matter."

Grant nodded, fumbled in his clothes with his left hand for a while, then took out a piece of paper, and took out a finger-sized charcoal stick from somewhere, and scribbled on the paper.

"How many children are there in your family? Do you have any other brothers or sisters?"

"No, I'm the only child of my mother."

"When did your mother die? Where is she buried?"

"On the fifth day of the third month in the thirty-first year of Mingguang, he was buried in Sangu Mountain in Jingzhou."

Grant hummed, continued writing something with the wooden stick, then shook the paper off and showed it to Sam.

"Have you seen this pattern before?"

Sam finished drinking the medicine and looked at the paper.

The pattern is very simple. There is an attic in the middle of a circle, and below the attic there are several clusters of waves connected to the two ends of the arc.

It was exactly the pattern that the man showed him before, and now, Grant asked him again.

It seems that this pattern is very important.

Sam pondered for a long time, and Grant did not urge him.

"Yes, it's the pattern on my mother's handkerchief."

Grant Grant smiled slightly, as if he had accomplished something important. He relaxed a lot and rolled up the paper briskly. He glanced at Sam happily and said, "Ask whatever you want to ask. I'm in a good mood now. I didn't expect this matter to be resolved so quickly."

Sam was silent for a moment, "What is this pattern? Who are you and...that person? Why did you save me? Do you know my parents?"

Grant rolled up the paper and stuffed it into his arms, raised a finger and shook it, and answered: "First question, this pattern is the logo of our Fairy Island."

"As you can see, Connor and I are both members of an organization called Haige on Xianren Island. However, I am still working hard, but Connor has quit. This time, the island owner specifically ordered Connor to rescue you, otherwise no one would be able to move him."

Sam had just taken the medicine and looked a little listless. He was unable to react for a while after hearing Grant's words.

Grant couldn't help but rub Sam's head like a puppy, and said with a smile: "Don't be nervous, with Connor here, no one can hurt you, just wait here peacefully for the island owner to pick you up, I have other things to do, so I'll leave first."

"Wait!" Sam suddenly came to his senses. The scene of Connor casually piercing a person's throat with his backhand finger flashed before his eyes, and his throat tightened instantly.

"Can I...can I go with you? I don't want to stay here..."

The Grant in front of him was almost the same size as Connor, but his temperament was like the morning mist in the mountains, clear and gentle, without Connor's cold and aloof arrogance.

Not sure if he had something to hide, but Sam always felt that when Connor first looked at someone, his eyes would always fall on the throat, as if he was ready to strike at any time and kill them with one move.

Grant sneered, "I know you are afraid of him, but I have other things to do and cannot take you with me."

Sam pursed his lips and said nothing, leaning against the wall alone, curled up like a puppy thrown on the roadside to fend for itself. He tried to get close to everyone, wanting to ask for a way out, but was always kicked away as a burden.

Sam thought back on his journey so far and couldn't help but feel a sore nose and suddenly red eyes.

"Hey... why are you crying?" Grant was a little discouraged for a moment, standing with his hands on his waist, with a rare look of helplessness on his handsome face. He couldn't agree or refuse, "Then... well, okay, then I'll take you away?"

Sam sniffed, huddled sideways, and hid himself in a corner where the candlelight couldn't reach. "It's okay, go ahead. I was just impulsive. You saved me, so I'll naturally follow your instructions."

"Forget it, forget it. Just come with me. At worst, I can take you back to Haige and put my things aside first." Grant seemed to have compromised.

"No need..." Sam curled up in a corner. The cool autumn night breeze came in through the shabby window of the woodshed, brushing across Sam's face, feeling icy cold. Soon, sleepiness came over him, and Sam's eyelids became heavier. Perhaps the medicine was taking effect, and his breathing gradually calmed down in the evening breeze.

Grant pondered for a long time, then paced back and forth in the room, seeming to be very conflicted. After a moment, he sighed lightly, pulled up the mask, turned around and left.

The door opened and closed, and a few gusts of cool wind rushed in. The room was silent. Sam choked a few times, trying to curl himself up and blend into the darkness in the corner.

The moon is at its zenith, and insects are chirping.

Sam woke up from a half-sleep state. When he opened his eyes, he saw the dark roof and the moonlight pouring into the house. He felt sad and fearful but had no way to vent. He cried on the hay again and didn't know when he fell asleep. He kept repeating this process. He didn't even know how many times he woke up or what time it was.

The moon was bright outside and the stars were sparse. The door of the woodshed was gently pushed open and a figure walked in. Sam huddled in the corner and sobbed silently, unaware of the movement behind her. She even sobbed unconsciously when the visitor helped her half sit up and fed her medicine.

"How is it?" A thin and short figure stood outside the door, speaking in a very low voice, for fear of disturbing the people in the house.

"Asleep." The man responded in a low voice, then put Sam down, collected the medicine bowl, stood up and left. When he reached the door, he reached out to support the thin figure. The latter nodded slightly and was helped away by the man.

Sam's breathing gradually became steady, and he eventually fell asleep peacefully.

A dreamless night.