Tied up in answer to a massacre. Xingchen had only wanted him stopped and brought to justice. Not killed.

He gently encourages Xue Yang to lean back so he can rinse that hair off with the fresh bucket then sets to towel-drying the strands in a way he has a sad feeling this man has never been treated to.

"I have a lot too," he answers serenely. He's too focused on his task to even think of how anything this man says could be taken. Then he wraps it all up and drapes it over one of Xue Yang's shoulders.

"Would you sit? I would like to finish tending the gash on your back first. Then your arm."

But Xue Yang has expressed a wish too, hasn't he? That has his cheeks pink a little as he shyly turns away to fetch his medical supplies.

"You may. When you are all healed up."