On the ground, that female puppet was still extending her leg; at first, Wen Kexing did not notice it and nearly stepped onto it, only leaping away when the flute sticking close to the floor swept at him. Behind him, the male puppet had already extracted its arm from the doorway and was turning in this direction. Wen Kexing picked Zhang Chengling up, flung him into the hole in the wall with a whirl of his arm, then bent to pick up Zhou Zishu in a bridal carry and jumped in close behind.
The male puppet ran over to where they were. Wen Kexing turned, eying that puppet guardedly, but that puppet seemed to be capable of moving in only two directions: it could only either advance or retreat, and did not have the ability to turn left or right. Unable to locate the humans, it kept turning in circles on the spot. The long flute in the female puppet's hand landed a blow on his leg, and like the sharpest spear turned onto the most durable shield, they instantly came into conflict. With a loud crash, the two puppets toppled onto their fronts. On the receiving end of an attack, the male puppet jabbed at the female puppet's head with his elbow, and then they started massacring each other in internal strife.
Wen Kexing finally heaved a sigh of relief, and instructed Zhou Zishu in a low voice, "Don't talk." He sealed a few of Zhou Zishu's acupoints and set him down, frowning when he saw the bloodstains on his front. He told Zhang Chengling, "Little tyke, go over to that opening and take a look, if there's some kind of…"
He paused, not knowing how to describe it. Gesturing with his hands, he said, "Round, ball-like thing about a foot tall rolling towards you, run. Come back and tell me about it."
Zhang Chengling made a noise of understanding, and asked, "Senior, my shifu, he…"
For once, Wen Kexing was annoyed, and cut him off abruptly, "He's fine, he won't die."
Zhang Chengling asked, "Senior, that thing you described, what is it?"
"I don't know either," Wen Kexing sighed, and pointed at the segment of wall that had been blasted open. "That's the result of that thing exploding."
Zhang Chengling looked in the direction his finger was pointing in, and was instantly troubled. Realising that this senior, who appeared very capable, had also been pursued to this location, he immediately ran to the other end without a single word and nervously stood guard there.
Wen Kexing reached out to open Zhou Zishu's robes, but his wrist was pinned by the latter. In a hoarse voice, Zhou Zishu laughed, "What are you doing? Taking advantage of me when it's opportune?"
Wen Kexing slapped his hand away. Poking him lightly in the chest, he said coolly, "Talk a couple of lines less. You're about to kick the bucket, and you're still so talkative."
Zhou Zishu felt like he had come full circle in his life: he had just been called a rice bin by a glutton, and now, a chatterbox was claiming that he was talkative.
Wen Kexing gingerly unfastened his robe. When his gaze lighted upon the nails in Zhou Zishu's chest, the light in his eyes unconsciously flickered. On the other hand, Zhou Zishu did not care at all. In between breaths, his chest and back felt like they were on fire. At once, he knew that the damage he had suffered was not superficial; he had most likely broken a bone and hurt his lungs. Forcing himself to hold back his coughing, he made himself take extremely shallow breaths, in case he aggravated his injury.
Wen Kexing flipped him over, saw the injury on his back, and could not help but suck in a breath. Frostily, he said, "An inch more to the side, and that thing could have broken your spine, do you believe it?"
Voice as thin as a thread, Zhou Zishu said, "Don't talk nonsense. If I could have my spine broken by a fake human being, I won't have the face to continue living."
Wen Kexing humphed. Placing his hand on his back, he examined his injury closely. A while later, he sighed. "Are you stupid? Didn't think that it would hurt?"
His fingers pressed down on a spot, and Zhou Zishu let out a low grunt at once, in too much pain to speak. After a while, he finally replied through gritted teeth, "Why...don't you ask me to hit you with a stick, and give it a try yourself…"
Wen Kexing fell into one of his rare bouts of silence. He helped Zhou Zishu to sit up straight, laid his hand against his back, and channelled true qi over to him. He did not dare to use too much force, out of fear that he might rattle the nails in his chest like how Ye Baiyi had the other time.
In his whole life, Wen Kexing had practiced martial arts with the purpose of killing and hurting; this was the first time he was using it so meticulously and carefully to try and save someone. He was as tense as a boorish butcher doing delicate needlework, and not long later, sweat began beading at the sides of his forehead.
Slightly less than half a shichen later, he retracted his qi and let go of Zhou Zishu, positioning him so that his shoulder was leaning against the wall. Knowing that his own physical strength was now limited, Zhou Zishu did not waste more of it and simply closed his eyes to rest. The bit of blood at the corner of this mouth had not been wiped clean, and its presence made that pale face look even more shockingly ashen in contrast.
Wen Kexing gazed at him for a while. Suddenly, he couldn't stop himself from bending down to lightly take the corner of Zhou Zishu's mouth between his lips, and lap up the drop of blood that had landed there. He seemed to exhale a sigh as he sunk his fingers into the hair at Zhou Zishu's temple, their breaths extremely close to each other's. Zhou Zishu had opened his eyes sometime ago, but he did not waste any energy by ducking away from Wen Kexing. Instead, he merely said in a low voice, "What lowlife manners, taking advantage of others' misfortune."
Wen Kexing did not even look up at him, and returned his compliment with an equally low voice, "Said as if you were a gentleman."
The way he smiled and spoke was like a murmur; Zhou Zishu could not maintain his pretense of calm any longer, and turned his face away with some discomfort. But his jaw was gripped in place by Wen Kexing, who asked, "Do you have a conscience? I healed your injury. Do I not get even this little perk?"
Zhou Zishu was silent for a while, before he finally said, "I don't have plans to sell my body for the moment."
Wen Kexing chuckled. "Do you know what happens when you're not as strong as someone?"
Zhou Zishu arched an eyebrow and stared at him like he was the pinnacle of human shamelessness. Wen Kexing drew close to his ear, and he heard him whisper, "I'll--force--a--transaction."
Zhou Zishu grimaced. "Your spirits are too high."
Wen Kexing fixed his eyes on him for a while, the meaning of his gaze unclear, before letting him go. Crossing his arms behind his head and stretching his legs to rest his feet on the wall on the other side, he laid down and said smugly, "But you can put it on your tab."
Fatigued, Zhou Zishu stopped talking nonsense with him. He closed his eyes and blearily passed out into sleep.
Wen Kexing knew his own limitations well. Other than Ye Baiyi, none of them understood this unfathomable witchcraft that was the art of the vanishing door, and they might come across unknown dangers if they stumbled around like headless houseflies. At present, Zhang Chengling was a little tyke who hadn't even matured enough to grow body hair, and Zhou Zishu was grievously injured. They might as well adopt a tactic of countering infinite volatile changes with stagnancy; to rest and recover where they were, catch their breaths before thinking of a solution.
With how stifled it was, Zhou Zishu's breathing was very quiet, but yet very even, like he had fallen asleep. Wen Kexing turned his head over to gaze at him, and suddenly recalled the words of the Great Shaman of Nanjiang--"If you incapacitate yourself by ridding yourself of your martial ability, I might have a fifth of confidence that I can save your life." Involuntarily, he sat up straight, channelled his martial energy into his palm and raised it slowly. Maybe…
Just as his palm hovered in hesitation, a hand suddenly plunged out of thin air. Icy fingers came to rest on his wrist. Zhou Zishu had opened his eyes sometime ago, and their gazes met in this cramped space.
Zhou Zishu's gaze was very calm. Not a single fluctuation in tone could be detected in his voice as he asked, "What are you doing?"
Wen Kexing did not speak.
All of a sudden, Zhou Zishu sighed. Moving his gaze away, he said, almost in a non-sequitur, "Others don't understand, but do you not as well?"
Wen Kexing slowly dropped his gaze. A long while later, he gently let his palm fall to the side.
"Yes, I understand." As he spoke, he abruptly sent his arm downwards, and a solid depression half an inch deep in the shape of his hand was imprinted into the ground underneath his palm. Like he was trying hard to convince himself, he repeated once more, "I understand…"
Zhang Chengling did not know when he had fallen asleep, nor did he know how long he had slept for, but he was suddenly jolted into wakefulness by a great noise from not too far away. He jumped to his feet in an instant, turning his neck to warily scan all directions. Then, a hand pressed down on his shoulder. Zhang Chengling jolted, whipped his head back, and discovered that it was his shifu, who had not been able to even stand a day ago.
Zhou Zishu coughed twice, pressed Zhang Chengling still, and instructed, "Don't fidget. Follow us."
When Zhang Chengling turned his head, Wen Kexing had followed Zhou Zishu out. Zhang Chengling looked at one of them, then the other, and asked, "Shifu, has your injury healed?"
Zhou Zishu replied without even looking back at him. "Am I not human?"
Zhang Chengling thought about it. True, with an injury that severe--brushing off Zhou Zishu's unkind tone, he anxiously went up again to ask, "Then, shifu…are you able to walk on your own?"
Zhou Zishu inhaled deeply. It wasn't only his body which was hurting; he felt that his brain was also starting to ache, too. "What else do you think I'm doing?"
Wen Kexing turned his head aside to laugh. Zhang Chengling scratched his head and said, "Shifu, I mean...you're so severely injured…"
Zhou Zishu glanced at him expressionlessly. "Do you think I should be delicately frail for a moment in this godforsaken place? Unless you'd like to carry me on your back?"
Zhang Chengling was just about to demonstrate his sense of filial piety when Wen Kexing immediately spoke up. "I'll carry you on my back. Or in my arms, that's fine too."
Zhou Zishu turned his head aside to cough, pressed on the injury on his chest with his shoulders hunched, and said shortly, "Don't talk nonsense."
Making their way along the underground passage, the three of them cautiously neared the place where the gigantic crash had come from. For the sake of caution, Zhou Zishu wrapped his palm around the luminescent pearl, plunging their surroundings into darkness. Wen Kexing stepped forward to tug at Zhou Zishu, pulling him to one side. Reaching out, he took Zhou Zishu's Baiyi sword, and glided a finger along the blade. A hint of appreciation bloomed on his face. Then, with a quiver of his wrist, the tip of the sword trembled slightly, and the long sword was thrust out.
Blindsided, the person around the corner grunted, and extended a finger to flick the tip of his sword off-target. Wen Kexing instantly switched tactics. In Zhou Zishu's hands, that flexible sword moved in clear and righteous strokes, but in Wen Kexing's hands, it was extremely wicked and unearthly, as vexing to counter as a malignant cyst that had pervaded the bone.
Quick as lightning, the two exchanged about ten moves in the darkness. However, it was Zhou Zishu who suddenly spoke up after a moment's listening with his brow furrowed. "Senior Ye?"
The other party humphed lightly. Zhou Zishu raised the luminescent pearl once more, and illuminated that uniquely foul expression of Ye Baiyi's. Wen Kexing only withdrew his sword then, and cheerily saluted him with a hand over his fist. "It was a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. A pure misunderstanding."
He was clearly lying--Zhou Zishu could guess who the opponent was based on sound alone, much less Wen Kexing, who had personally been exchanging blows with him. Clearly, Wen Kexing was dishonestly borrowing the cover of darkness to dish out a beating as he had truthfully wished to do so; it was evident that he still had some persistent preconceived notions against this old senior with a mysterious background.
Ye Baiyi swept an eye across Zhou Zishu, and frowned. "How have you ended up in this half-dead state…"
Zhou Zishu was saving any morsel of energy whenever he could; slumping on his shoulder against the rock wall, he gave in before Ye Baiyi could criticise him, "This junior is too incapable, and is a rice bin."
Ye Baiyi glanced at him in surprise, nodded, and said, "Consider it that you have some self-awareness." He surveyed the surroundings, then beckoned to the three of them. "Come this way."
Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing knew that this old man was very capable, and were happy for him to take the lead. The two of them provided support by bringing up the rear, trapping Zhang Chengling in the middle. As they walked, Wen Kexing plastered himself to Zhou Zishu out of the blue, hooked an arm around his waist and silently took an arm of his to prop it across his shoulders.
Zhou Zishu glanced at him and frowned. "Have I been crippled?"
Wen Kexing sighed, "That old freak is here, what are you overtaxing yourself for? Let's keep walking."
It was odd; on their own, the two of them ran into danger multiple times, and they felt that this place had as many paths as a haunted cave. However, as they trailed after Ye Baiyi, the journey was oddly smooth-sailing. The four of them walked around in innumerous circles, and safely reached an area that looked like a large hall. Everything was still and peaceful when they had entered, but yet, a moment later, countless round balls about a foot in diameter came rolling out at them from all directions.
Reflexively, Wen Kexing booted Zhang Chengling behind him, then picked up Zhou Zishu in a bridal carry and glided three to four zhang out. These things had made him suffer immensely; manufactured in some unknown way, they exploded once they came into contact with something. For a very long while, Wen Kexing had been scampering around in the underground passages as they pursued him, feeling like he had become a large rat.
Yet, Ye Baiyi was utterly calm. Watching those spheres surge at them like the tide, he abruptly gave a loud, short shout, and delivered a palm strike through the air in front of him. He was using some unknown technique, but Zhang Chengling's eyes were sharp, and he noticed that the stone tiles by his feet had shattered in an instant. The first ball that rolled over was the first to suffer damage; it exploded, and immediately thereafter, created a chain reaction of continuous explosions. Ye Baiyi's hands were braced in the same spot, appearing to have erected an unseen wall that blocked them from the chaos, which was almost a force of nature in itself.
Wen Kexing's expression became more solemn as he regarded Ye Baiyi, who had his back turned to them, with a thoughtful gaze.
Thereafter, they heard Ye Baiyi command, "Show yourself!"
He reached out a hand and made a grabbing motion. A large tile of stone fell from the wall of the enormous hall. The figure of a person flashed into view.
Zhou Zishu and the rest looked in the direction of Ye Baiyi's gaze, and were temporarily stunned.