The pawn ticket Ze Que held out remained suspended in the air; Zhongli Zixi showed no intention of reaching for it. Seeing this, Ze Que spoke again. "What are you looking for? I know this town well enough; I can take you there."
"It is none of your concern." Though Zhongli Zixi was filled with doubt, he had no time to waste. He took his leave and turned to walk away.
Sensing the other man’s reluctance to speak—and even a hint of repulsion—Ze Que sensibly stopped in his tracks. He stood dazed for a moment before tucking the pawn ticket into his own robes.
Ze Que did have some understanding of this small town, but he had only been here for about a month. He had suffered a severe illness, and upon waking, he could remember nothing of the past. He was told that his parents were traveling far away and that, due to his illness, he had been sent to stay with distant relatives in this remote town in Nanling.
The relatives were some combination of a cousin’s second uncle’s aunt’s niece’s sister-in-law; he had asked several times, but the lineage was so convoluted he could never remember it.
He had lived there for a while, helping the elders with farming and errands, doing heavy labor, yet he always felt out of place. His entire household consisted of simple farmers and merchants; why was he the only one who practiced martial arts?
Aside from the sword at his waist, everything felt foreign to him. It was only today, upon seeing this mud-stained stranger, that an inexplicable sense of familiarity had arisen, making him want to draw near.
Unfortunately, the other party did not appreciate the gesture. It seemed it was merely one-sided.
Zhongli Zixi asked for directions and followed a small path to the nearby pharmacy. The town wasn't large, but it was spread out, with paths crisscrossing in a complex web. It took him a long time to find the place.
After the physician finished packing the herbs, Zhongli Zixi fell into another dilemma. There were no tools at home to decoct Chinese medicine, and he simply could not carry a heavy ceramic pot back on his own. While asking the doctor to brew the medicine would save trouble, carrying the liquid medicine would be even more difficult...
As Zhongli Zixi sat on a bench by the side of the shop, staring blankly at his bundle of herbs, a group of middle-aged men burst through the entrance. They were boisterous and rude, shoving their way in. The physician, Dr. Chen, immediately let out a sigh of distress.
A man in a bamboo hat and coir raincoat shouted in a towering rage, "You, surnamed Chen! Are you damn well trying to trick us? Your shitty medicine has no effect at all! Do you want another beating?"
"Great masters, great masters... it’s not that we’re being dismissive, but we truly cannot cure Fourth Master Fang’s injury..." Dr. Chen emerged from behind the counter, bowing and scraping as he offered his apologies. "We only know how to treat common ailments. This... this isn't a sickness..."
The burly man demanded, "If it’s not a sickness, then what is it? Is it poison? Speak up!"
"It... it shouldn't be poison either... I don't recognize it. I’ve truly never seen the like..." Dr. Chen said in terror.
"Who wants to hear your rambling nonsense! If you can't cure him, your whole family can go to the grave with him!" The man in the coir raincoat grabbed Dr. Chen by the collar, intending to slam him against the counter. Suddenly, a figure approached with the speed of lightning, giving the man a light push on the chest that sent him flying backward.
Zhongli Zixi saw the newcomer and thought: *You again.*
Ze Que shielded Dr. Chen behind him and asked, "Uncle Chen, are you alright?"
Dr. Chen hurriedly tried to stop him. "Oh dear, oh dear... San-wazi, you’re back... Don’t fight them, quickly apologize..."
The burly man was helped up by his companions. When they saw who it was, they barked, "It’s you again, kid!"
One of them shrank back, muttering, "Ma, why is it him again... I don't want to be beaten by him again..."
Someone beside him immediately punched him. "What are you acting cowardly for? Don't forget, he’s still carrying that cursed evil poison in him. He won't be getting the better of us today."
The farming family Ze Que stayed with was related to this physician. He often came to the shop to help out and had taught these local thugs a lesson several times when they came to cause trouble. Unable to beat him in a fair fight, they had used a sinister method, coating a hidden weapon with poison. Ze Que had been caught off guard, and the poison remained uncured to this day.
Since then, every time Ze Que circulated his true qi, his internal organs felt as if they were being torn apart. But he couldn't care about that now. Seeing Zhongli Zixi sitting quietly on the side watching, he felt a bit of a headache. He could only say, "Uncle Chen, go hide for a moment. Help this guest inside as well; don't let an innocent person get involved."
Dr. Chen had just poked his head out when the man in the coir raincoat roared, "Chen, you quack! Don't you dare think of leaving! See if I don't beat you to death!"
Terrified by the shout, Dr. Chen didn't dare worry about any guests. He clutched his head and fled through the back door behind the counter.
Ze Que sighed and tried to negotiate patiently. "Then let us take this fight outside."
"That’s not for you to decide! Since you can't cure anyone anyway, there’s no point in keeping this shitty pharmacy!" With a kick, a man overturned the tables and chairs in the hall and began smashing porcelain. Shards of cracked porcelain imitating Ge-ware flew in all directions. Zhongli Zixi tried his best to turn his head, but a shard still grazed the tip of his ear, leaving a bright red gash on his cheek.
Zhongli Zixi felt nothing of the stinging pain. He only thought: *That won't do. If this pharmacy is destroyed, what will I do for Ye Jun's next dose of medicine?*
Ze Que had already exchanged several blows with the five or six men. With his internal energy restricted, he was indeed constrained at every turn. He could only try his best not to use his true qi, relying purely on external martial techniques to deal with them. He struggled to hold his ground, putting all his effort into luring the thugs out of the shop. Thinking the man inside could now escape through the back door, his focus wavered for a split second. He was tripped, slammed to the ground, and stomped into the mud.
As he struggled to rise, he unconsciously exerted his internal energy. He was instantly hit by a pain like ten thousand swords piercing his heart. A mouthful of fresh blood sprayed out, and even his vision began to blur. Seeing that he was finally subdued, the burly men redoubled their efforts, their fists and feet raining down on him to avenge their previous grievances.
Ze Que was debating whether to let his internal breath run wild for a desperate final stand when he saw the youth, half-covered in mud, hobbling out of the pharmacy's front door with his crutch. Though his gait was unsteady, his expression was extremely calm, carrying a solemn aura of authority. The words Ze Que intended to say—telling him to run for his life—suddenly died in his throat.
Zhongli Zixi glanced at Ze Que and let out a soft, contemptuous huff from his nose.
Ze Que’s cultivation had been at the peak even within the Zhongli Estate. To be bullied and humiliated by these crude men in this backwater town was simply laughable.
The troublemakers had already found him an eyesore because of his filthy appearance, but they hadn't bothered with him until now. They turned their glares toward him. "You beggar, what the hell are you laughing at!"
Zhongli Zixi said coolly, "I am laughing because you have little time left to live, yet you still have the leisure to bully others."
The man in the coir raincoat roared in fury, "You damn jinx! How dare you bring your bad luck to me—"
Zhongli Zixi said eerily, "Every night at the hour of the Rat, you feel a sharp pain in your right ribs, and there is a green bruise three inches below your navel. This pain grows more intense by the day, and the bruise will only darken."
The man’s face changed instantly. He gasped in horror, "You... how do you know that!"
"I also know that the bloodline on your left ring finger is connecting to your heart along your meridians. Within seven days, you will drop dead." Zhongli Zixi looked at him calmly, as if looking at a lifeless corpse.
"How are you so sure?!" Sweat poured down the man's face. Several of his brothers had already met their end exactly as described. He lunged at Zhongli Zixi, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him up. He barked, "Since you know so much, do you know the cure? If anything happens to me, I’ll take your dog life first—"
Zhongli Zixi’s throat was squeezed tight, making it impossible to breathe. Yet he remained entirely unruffled. With extreme composure, he reached out and pressed a finger precisely over the man's green bruise through his clothes. The man let out a scream as if struck by lightning and fell to his knees, twitching.
"Is this the attitude of someone asking for help?" As the grip loosened, Zhongli Zixi was dropped abruptly to the ground, unable to stand. He leaned against the wall and shakily pulled himself up, frowning coldly. "If I save you, there will naturally be conditions. If you displease me again, then just wait for death."
It was indeed neither a sickness nor a poison, but a Gu.
He, of course, knew it better than anyone.
Back then, the Wangsheng Hall had tested these Gu poisons on his body, one by one, with their own hands.
The Wangsheng Hall had many ways to torture people; their methods were sinister and cruel, yet extremely effective.
After the Second Young Master designed the destruction of the Wangsheng Hall, he had filtered and refined some of the Gu techniques, gathering the remnants of the old sect to establish the Wushui Terrace in Nanling. They were specifically tasked with the dark, unspeakable business of interrogation and assassination.
These men had likely inadvertently offended the Wushui Terrace and fled all the way to this remote town. Each of them was suffering from the onset of the poison and could go no further, so they had stayed here. They had seized countless physicians and herbalists to treat them, but to no avail. They died and were injured one after another, until they finally encountered this crippled man.
Zhongli Zixi agreed to save them for no other reason than money.
Seeing him being ushered into Fourth Master Fang’s house, Ze Que feared something might happen to him. He leaned against the base of a wall, waiting restlessly. After half an hour, a maid poked her head out and looked around. Seeing him, she ran over. "Excuse me, are you Master Ze Que?"
Ze Que nodded. "I am."
"My master invites you inside." The maid bowed to him with a smile. Ze Que clutched his chest and stood up with difficulty. Seeing that he was injured, the maid quickly supported him as they entered.
Once inside the garden, Ze Que saw Zhongli Zixi waiting for him in the courtyard, unharmed. Only then did he feel at ease.
Zhongli Zixi glanced at him and immediately looked away. "You really were waiting outside."
"I was afraid something would happen to you," Ze Que said.
After saying it, he smiled sheepishly. He knew he lacked the ability to protect anyone, yet he still couldn't stop worrying.
Ze Que asked again, "Are you really going to save those people?"
Zhongli Zixi said frankly, "I need money."
"I can find a way to help you," Ze Que said in a low voice. "Why make a deal with these wolves? They are only being polite to you now because they are under your control. Once they are cured, they will surely come back to cause you trouble..."
Zhongli Zixi said indifferently, "We'll see if they even live until that day."
Ze Que lowered his head thoughtfully, stroking the hilt of his sword. He thought that if he hadn't been careless and fallen victim to a sneak attack, he would have been able to easily say something like "I can protect you" at a time like this...
Zhongli Zixi suddenly turned his head. "I can also cure your poison. I called you in for this very reason. It is merely a variation of a Gu poison; it’s simpler than theirs and will be fixed quickly."
Ze Que was startled. He looked up at him, an inexplicable joy rising in his heart. "Thank... thank you... In the future, I will surely—"
"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not doing this to help you." Seeing his reaction, Zhongli Zixi’s headache worsened. "It’s just that there is something I must trouble you with. My legs and arms are inconvenient, and I fear I won't be able to make it back today. But... but at my home, there is someone still waiting to eat."
Ze Que nodded. "I will do my best to help you look after your family. You can rest easy."
Zhongli Zixi found applying the term "family" to Ye Jun to be more than a little awkward.
Back then, Ze Que had died under torture, and Ye Jun himself had supervised the execution. Now, Ye Jun was clinging to life in a remote mountain forest. Ze Que’s arrival would surely be like a thunderclap from a clear sky.
Zhongli Zixi thought worriedly: *I hope Ye Jun doesn't mistake him for a vengeful ghost seeking his life and get scared to death on the spot.*
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 巫水台 | Wushui Terrace | A secret organization in Nanling specializing in interrogation and assassination. |
| 枉生殿 | Wangsheng Hall | A sinister sect/organization that used Gu poisons for torture; destroyed by the Second Young Master. |
| 蛊 | Gu | A venomous parasite or toxic insect used in traditional Chinese sorcery/poisoning. |
| 方四爷 | Fourth Master Fang | A local figure of authority or leader of the thugs. |
| 岁寒 | Suihan | "Winter's Chill"; the name of the sword belonging to Ze Que. |
| 枯荣 | Kurong | "Wither and Flourish"; the name of the twin sword belonging to Ye Sha. |
| 南陵 | Nanling | Southern Ridge; the remote region where the story is currently set. |
| 三娃子 | San-wazi | A rural nickname meaning "Third Child." |
| 哥窑 | Ge-ware | One of the Five Great Kilns of the Song Dynasty, famous for its "crackled" glaze. |
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