Temple of Truth

Chapter 66

Ignoring Fatty who had bothering for quite a while that he should rather sleep and that writing with only the fire as a light source would damage his eyes, that he should at least use a flash light.

He only answered that it would be a problem if the battery ran out tomorrow before trying to ignore him again.

After a while the mercenaries returned, that was about the time Fatty stopped bothering him and Zhang too returned from where ever he had been.

Wu Xi just started to note down the myth about the temple of truth when the last person – his uncle – also went to bed.

After getting everything on paper properly – even though it took him quite a while – he too went to bed. Stopping halfway inside his sleeping bag.

He had noticed Zhang already lying slightly curled up inside his half closed sleeping bag. It gave Wu Xi the opportunity to openly adore him for as long as he wished – or as long as the fire was still glowing enough for him to actually see his resting face.

He had never thought, that he could one day actually watch him sleep. The quiet calm that almost made him want to touch to feel if Zhang was really real. Only to stop himself from moving. This also made him notice that Zhang was holding onto his bandaged arm, keeping it in a protective position against his chest.

Seeing this made his worry flare up again. But he couldn't just wake him up to ask it he really was okay, especially when sleep will help with the healing process. He will just have to trust Zhang that he will let them know if there is something wrong.

Knowing that he certainly won't be able to sleep with the light of the flame and Zhang sleeping in his field of vision, Wu Xi knew that he would have to turn his back to him at some point. Just not now.

This moment, was one that he should cherish. After a while he took out his notebook again, taking out a stitched booklet that was hidden in between the cover of his notebook.

After opening the booklet and turning over the pages Wu Xi could see one drawing of Zhang after another. Those weren't simple sketches like he had made in the rest of the book. These pictures were delicate drawings of his most treasured memories.

Those booklets were his own version of a diary, the first ones he had ever made had drawings of his parents and grandfather in them – the most recent ones were full of pictures of Zhang. Most of them drawn from memory – but this time there was no need for it.

While drawing he was only somewhat frustrated that he had only one type of pencil with him, like this the soft lines were all somewhat difficult to get right.

Only when the fire finally wasn't bright enough any more that he could properly see his painting he put the pencil and notebook away again. Finally turning his back to the fire and Zhang – deciding that it was time for him to sleep.

Missing the black eyes that had opened again, staring worried at Wu Xis back.