Chapter 7: Acquaintances in the Canyon

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Zhang Wuxun let out a soft chuckle, clearly noticing the corner of Wu Xiaoxie’s mouth twitching as if about to smile. If the timing had been right, he would have burst out laughing. Embarrassed at having made a fool of themselves in front of outsiders, Master Wu awkwardly tapped his toes on the ground.

“Panzi, go get it.”

Damn it, if next time he brought that idiot Da Kui down into the fields again, he deserved to be gnawed on by the rice dumplings.

“Big nephew, watch carefully. Third Uncle is going to show you a proper trick today.” Master Wu took the black donkey hoof and positioned himself.

Though Wu Xiaoxie trusted his third uncle, he was still deeply uneasy inside.

“I’ll do it.”

Without hesitation, the young man drew his ancient black-gold blade and slashed across the back of his hand. Blood immediately surged forth.

Just a drop fell into the water, and the corpse insects scattered wildly, as if encountering their natural enemy, retreating en masse in a magnificent scene.

Zhang Wuxun watched the blood continue to flow from the young man’s hand and clicked his tongue in sympathy. If they weren’t barely acquainted, he would have insisted on taking a jar down to collect the blood—it was pure qilin blood, worth a fortune if sold.

The young man then pointed his bloodied hand at the white-clad female ghost, who, as expected, knelt before him.

Everyone was stunned.

Zhang Wuxun nudged Master Wu, who still held the black donkey hoof, lowering his voice: “What are you dazing for? Hurry up and run.”

Master Wu snapped out of his trance, cast a complicated glance at the young man, kicked the boatman’s corpse into the water, called Panzi, and the two rowed desperately.

The young man withdrew his hand and warned, “Don’t look back.”

Zhang Wuxun had been watching Wu Xiaoxie closely; with his cursed constitution, he was the most curious and dangerous. Seeing him about to lower his head, Zhang Wuxun quickly reached out and steadied his chin, preventing him from looking into the water.

Wu Xiaoxie silently questioned his actions with his eyes.

Zhang Wuxun ignored him, thinking it might be easier to knock him out, but then reconsidered—if he did, Master Wu would surely kill him.

They maintained this awkward posture until the boat exited the thieves’ cave. Zhang Wuxun finally withdrew his hand, shaking his wrist to loosen it.

At that moment, the young man at the bow suddenly swayed and nearly fell into the water.

Zhang Wuxun quickly stepped forward, caught him by the waist, and helped him into the cabin.

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The young man lifted his eyelids, recognized Zhang Wuxun’s face, then closed his eyes and fainted completely.

Zhang Wuxun’s expression darkened.

Because the fool hadn’t even tried to stop the bleeding!

Master Wu glanced at Zhang Wuxun, then at the young man’s pale face, and hurriedly asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Excessive blood loss.”

Zhang Wuxun laid the young man flat, told Wu Xiaoxie to support his head as a pillow, then solemnly dug through his backpack for a medical kit to disinfect and bandage the wound on the back of his hand.

Wu Xiaoxie eyed Zhang Wuxun’s grim face, his hand numb from pressure, but dared not speak.

After tending to the wound, Zhang Wuxun produced a glucose vial, snapped off the top with his bare hands, and carefully fed the young man.

He gathered all the used materials, gently lifted the young man’s head, and whispered to Wu Xiaoxie, “I’ll watch over him. You go rest for a while.”

Wu Xiaoxie nodded, moved beside Da Kui, adjusted his awkward sleeping posture, leaned against his backpack, and soon fell asleep.

This journey had been full of shocks and scares—a harsh ordeal for the innocent one.

After traveling for an indeterminate time, faint lights appeared ahead.

Master Wu and the others brightened.

At the ferry dock, Master Wu woke his big nephew and Da Kui, careful not to disturb the young man, spoke softly with a few pointed glances at Da Kui: “We’ll settle this later.”

Wu Xiaoxie smirked at Da Kui’s discomfort, unrepentant even under his third uncle’s glare.

Then he hurried over to Zhang Wuxun’s side, helping him secure the young man on his back.

The group disembarked; Panzi drove a cattle cart, asked a passerby for directions, and found a simple inn for the night.

After settling in and freshening up, they dined in the main hall.

The young man had awakened but looked weak.

Zhang Wuxun returned to his room briefly, then came down with a cup of brown sugar water, placing it before the young man: “Drink.”

Master Wu ordered a plate of spicy stir-fried pork liver for him as well.

The young man glanced at Zhang Wuxun, who watched him expressionlessly. He lowered his eyelids obediently and finished the drink.

Wu Xiaoxie, seeing the sulky one’s submission, accidentally chuckled out loud and immediately caught a death glare from Zhang Wuxun.

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The young man’s body was pale from years of bloodletting, his hands and feet cold, with poor clotting ability. Each bloodletting left him weak for a while.

The main issue was that he never took care of himself. For example, today, he could have solved everything by pricking a finger but instead slashed a wide gash and didn’t stop the bleeding himself. Did he think he was some kind of blood pump?

The thought alone made Zhang Wuxun furious.

After a simple meal, Zhang Wuxun kept an eye on the young man as he went upstairs to rest.

Master Wu and the others ordered beer and peanuts, chatting with the innkeeper—what exactly was said, Zhang Wuxun didn’t inquire.

The night passed quietly.

The next day, the innkeeper sent a young boy to guide them.

They followed the child to a ravine recently formed by a mudslide.

Master Wu paid the boy a hundred yuan to send him off, then they began climbing the landslide.

Having witnessed Zhang Wuxun’s skills yesterday and knowing he was capable, Master Wu said nothing as Zhang Wuxun followed.

They soon passed the landslide and proceeded along the ravine, unexpectedly running into a familiar figure.

Wu Xiaoxie was first surprised, then angry: “Isn’t that the old man who played us yesterday?”

Panzi shouted and chased after him.

The old man was drawing water when he suddenly saw them, stumbled, fell into the creek, then scrambled up and ran—remarkably fast.

Panzi was about to draw a weapon when the old man suddenly collapsed onto his knees, leaving Panzi stunned.

The old man was clearly confused, struggling to flee again, but his left leg was useless.

Panzi cursed and caught him, hearing a crack—probably a dislocated arm.

Master Wu smiled at Zhang Wuxun, recalling clearly how he had simply bent down to pick up a stone and casually tossed it, and the old man had immediately knelt.

Master Wu silently wondered if this young man truly belonged to “it,” and what his intentions were in approaching Wu Xiaoxie. But seeing how he cared for Zhang Xiao Ge and sharing the same surname, could it be...

Unsure, Master Wu decided to keep observing. At worst, he could deal with it later.

Zhang Wuxun was wiping his hands with a tissue, noticing Master Wu’s probing gaze, casually shrugging. Having already revealed his abilities before, there was no need to keep playing dumb any longer.