while covered in mud (слэш)

“Nie Huaisang?” he demands, stumbling down the dirt path towards him. “What- are you the one who took down my wards?!”
He looks—awful. His eyes are sunken, his cheeks sallow. The robes he is wearing are nothing like the luxurious fabric he used to wear when he was still Yunmeng Jiang’s first disciple. Instead they are thread beard and worn, from a coarse fabric that looks irritating to the skin. There is a shakiness to his gait that Nie Huaisang has never seen from his friend, who always walked with such a presence as if to defy a world that has sentenced him to death.
“Of course it was me!” he scolds. “You really should take better care and hide your talismans.”
Wei Wuxian, rudely enough, ignores his (useful!) advice and instead looks at him like he’s mad. “What are you doing here?”
“Betraying the gentry and siding with evil, duh,” Huaisang rolls his eyes. “Now, will you let me in? I’m hungry.”