The scene in the Shuang Li Mirror switched again, returning to the two combatants in the sky. However, due to the distance and the strength of the two protagonists moving quickly, it was hard to capture the entire scene.
The magical tool had its limitations; even many movements and details that could be captured with keen eyesight turned into mere shadows when viewed through this tool.
Yu Sheng felt anxious as he watched. He suddenly thought of Zhang Xiaotian, who was already injured. After this fight, he would likely be in worse shape than when he fell off the cliff. He might end up hospitalized for half a year. He also thought of his seven million points and the many protagonists missing out on important opportunities.
As he continued watching, he didn’t know what method Wen Jiu used, but the scene suddenly zoomed in, allowing them to focus on one fighter during their occasional pauses in battle.
The duel style of these two was quite peculiar; every few exchanges, they would engage in a verbal sparring match. At the moment, it was Yin Wangzhi who attacked again, but Zhang Xiaotian’s expression was one of disdain. It was unclear what he said, but the incoming attack lost half its force, hesitating before he simply redirected his anger into the air instead of retaliating.
Another thunderclap echoed.
Yu Sheng’s expression stiffened as he pointed at the figures on the screen. “Is this how they always fight?”
The commotion was significant, yet they weren’t truly trying to hurt each other? Given their apparent animosity, it didn’t seem like they had any real friendship.
Wen Jiu shook his head. “Not really. Today, they’re holding back because of the master.”
He then pointed at the two in the screen, explaining, “Zhang Xiaotian said that if he acts so ruthlessly, even saying he’s the master’s disciple would only bring shame to the master. Yin Wangzhi scolded him, calling him a despicable hypocrite. That’s the gist of their verbal sparring.”
Yu Sheng nodded, feeling this was consistent with their characterizations, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the length of the original phrases was a bit different.
Meanwhile, high above in the sky—
“Ha, if you have the ability, go ahead and break my arms and legs, leave me in tatters! The worse I am, the more heartbroken the master will be!”
“Shameless and despicable! Is this all you have left? What kind of achievement is that?”
In the next moment, the Ghost King shifted his gaze downward, and the scene instantly darkened, cutting off the view.
Wen Jiu calmly put away the Shuang Li Mirror. “We were almost discovered.”
Yu Sheng also felt a lingering fear, patting his chest. The scene felt too real; if Yin Wangzhi had directed an angry glare at the mirror, it would have felt just like being threatened for real.
He recalled that when he first fell off the cliff, Yin Wangzhi was just a cute little guy who would turn away and snort when he was unhappy, his mouth stubborn but his body honest... Wen Jiu, holding the white ball of fluff, got up and hurried outside. “They’re coming back soon.”
They?
Yu Sheng froze, waving his hand to clear the dining table, making the table disappear with it. “Wait, the Ghost King is coming down? Now?!”
What should he do? He felt a bit nervous.
Nervous about what? Yu Sheng touched the back of his neck, feeling like he had forgotten something.
That’s right! He seemed to have dreamt about Yin Wangzhi coming back to find him last night, but he couldn’t remember the specifics; he only vaguely felt hot and startled.
Perhaps it was because he had been thinking about it during the day, leading to a nightmare of being boiled alive, which was why he was so tense now.
Convinced by his own reasoning, Yu Sheng reached the entrance of the cave, when Wen Jiu suddenly stood up, transforming into a cloud of light and disappearing, seemingly returning to his true form.
Moments later, only Zhang Xiaotian and Wen Jiu returned from the cliff, with no sign of Yin Wangzhi.
Zhang Xiaotian was indeed quite injured, looking miserable. He stumbled a few steps as soon as he landed, then was caught in Yu Sheng’s arms.
“Master, hiss...” Zhang Xiaotian gasped, “It hurts.”
Yu Sheng looked down and saw that all the wounds he had treated just yesterday had reopened, bleeding freely.
“Go rest; I’ll treat you again.”
He was initially a bit angry. This reckless behavior of insisting on fighting despite knowing he was injured filled him with worry, turning into frustration, as if he were watching his own child get hurt.
However, feeling the warmth on his hand reminded him of Wen Jiu saying they were holding back for the master, along with seeing Zhang Xiaotian trying his best to defend himself verbally in the mirror, his anger dissipated, transforming into a helpless sigh.
He touched Zhang Xiaotian’s forehead, feeling it was a bit hot. He might be getting a fever.
Zhang Xiaotian, perhaps due to his severe injuries, seemed dazed. Seeing Yu Sheng’s expression, he grinned foolishly. “Senior, I’ll have to trouble you again.”
Yu Sheng looked at his bright eyes and suddenly felt that his eldest disciple was a bit annoying.
So he waved his dust whisk, summoning a sedan chair he hadn’t used in years, placing Zhang Xiaotian on it, and then smirked. “No trouble at all; I have the tools.”
Zhang Xiaotian’s silly grin froze on his face.
The sedan chair had been unused for a long time; logically, it should have collected some dust. However, he hadn’t noticed it when he used it earlier. Now, realizing it was spotless, as if it had just been cleaned, he didn’t think much of it and used a spell to send Zhang Xiaotian into it.
Wen Jiu was no longer just distracted but had returned to his true form. His body was no longer just a mix of shades of white; aside from his eye color, he looked no different from an ordinary person. He quietly approached Yu Sheng’s side. “The Ghost King has returned, but he seems to need some alone time.”
Yu Sheng nodded, feeling it was understandable. As for Yin Wangzhi, although he seemed fierce and irritable now, his true nature was somewhat awkward. It was normal for him not to want to meet strangers; after all, he had likely come down from the cliff just to pay his respects.
That was fine. Yu Sheng wasn’t ready to meet him anyway, especially since his mind had just been preoccupied with the vague memories of a nightmare about being cooked alive, which made him a bit nervous.
Zhang Xiaotian, lying on the sedan chair, dripped blood along the way. After a moment of lethargy, he suddenly turned his head and glared at Wen Jiu. “Wait a minute! What happened to the offerings I prepared for the master? Where did you hide them?”
He remembered them at a time like this...
Wen Jiu smiled, not a hint of redness in his face, “Don’t worry, Brother Zhang. They’ve already been buried at the master’s grave. I believe the master will like them.”
Upon hearing this, a look of suspicion appeared in Zhang Xiaotian's eyes, as if he sensed something was off, and then he looked at Yu Sheng.
Yu Sheng had a delicate face that appeared cold and distant when expressionless. At that moment, feeling nervous, he accidentally let out a hiccup.
It wasn’t just a simple hiccup; it was the kind that one couldn’t control, coming out in a series of quick bursts.
Zhang Xiaotian shifted his gaze away, seemingly in a terrible mood. He glared at Wen Jiu again. “Okay, you’re good. I’ll remember this.”
Then he went back to lying there, remaining completely still in a sulky manner. Wen Jiu remained behind, smiling silently.
After Yu Sheng let out that hiccup, he suddenly couldn’t stop. He would take a few steps, then pause, waiting for the hiccup to finish before continuing, trying to avoid making too much noise.
By the time he was managing to settle Zhang Xiaotian while hiccuping, he had grown increasingly dejected. His hands were shaky, making it difficult to treat the wounds, so he let Zhang Xiaotian wait in the room while he hurriedly escaped.
Yu Sheng hid outside, looking down and covering his face. Although he was a capable cultivator and impressive for his age, being sixteen or seventeen and not easily fazed, that didn’t stop him from not knowing how to stop hiccups.
Wen Jiu suppressed a slight smile, gently placing a hand on the back of Yu Sheng's neck. Warm energy flowed into him, and soon enough, the hiccups indeed ceased.
“There’s no need to be nervous.”
Yu Sheng felt helpless; he didn’t want to be nervous, but since Wen Jiu was there, he couldn’t help but ask the question weighing on his mind, “Why was Zhang Gongzi angry just now? Was it because of the snacks? Did he find out...”
Wen Jiu reassured him, “Of course not. If he had discovered anything, he would have said it outright. He wouldn’t tolerate my kind of person.” Unless it was absolutely necessary to tolerate him, especially to please his beloved master.
Yu Sheng thought about it and agreed, feeling a bit relieved. “Thank you for earlier... I mean, for helping me with the hiccups.”
“Hmm, it’s a small matter, no need to be polite.” Wen Jiu gazed at him intently, his focus unwavering. “When my master was alive, he also had this problem. Whenever he was startled or nervous, he would lose control of his emotions and hiccup nonstop. After I left the Three Realms Cliff, I immediately learned a spiritual technique to treat this... It’s just a pity.”
Yu Sheng felt a pang of guilt, his throat tightening. “You... my condolences. I’ll go—let me bandage him first.”
And he hurriedly fled.
Back in the room, he no longer had hiccups. He quickly took out the bandages and other supplies, moving swiftly.
Zhang Xiaotian lay on the bed, breathing erratically and looking pale. To anyone unaware, it would seem he was gravely injured. Yu Sheng saw through the act but chose not to reveal it, recalling Wen Jiu’s earlier words. He suddenly felt that Zhang Xiaotian was behaving similarly, treating him like an elder, making a rare show of weakness.
With that thought, his movements became gentler.
“Master...”
With a clang, something fell to the floor.
Yu Sheng suppressed the panic rising in his chest and looked up at him. “What did you say?”
Zhang Xiaotian’s breath was uneven, his eyes misty. Upon closer inspection, his voice even had a nasal quality, and he called out again, “Master... I dreamt about you again...”
Yu Sheng picked up the fallen item, washed it, and set it down again, sitting at the bedside. “You... you have to see clearly; this isn’t a dream. I... I’m not...”
Zhang Xiaotian blinked, as if straining to think.
A slightly cold palm touched Yu Sheng's forehead, quickly withdrawing after a brief contact. Indeed, it was very hot. Yu Sheng sighed, “You’ve got a fever.”
“I’m sorry...” Zhang Xiaotian’s aura of the main character and the leader of the immortal alliance had vanished entirely, as if he had instantaneously transformed back into the helpless boy who had fallen off the cliff a hundred years ago—obedient and silly. “It’s you, Senior.”
“Hmm.” Yu Sheng picked up a towel to wipe the blood from his palms and arms.
“My master took care of me like this back in the day.” Zhang Xiaotian’s fingers curled, gripping the towel tightly, the other end held in Yu Sheng's hand, taut like a straight line. “But it was a bit different.”
Yu Sheng felt a mix of pain and tenderness and asked softly, “How was it different?”
“My master...” Zhang Xiaotian’s hand gradually enclosed the large warm towel, leaving only a small corner for Yu Sheng to hold, his fingers pressing together, even hotter than the towel. “He wasn’t good at caring for people. It was as if it was the first time he encountered someone injured as badly as I was; he was flustered but very patient, keeping vigil by my side day and night...”
Yu Sheng was momentarily stunned, recalling distant memories that oddly coincided with the present.
Zhang Xiaotian's eyes glistened, as if he truly had a high fever, speaking in a fragmented manner, almost as if talking to himself. “Compared to that, your method of caring for the wounded is far more skilled and calm, and you never worry that I might die, nor do you leave my side.”
“I...”
“My master said that in the future, someone would treat me even better.” Zhang Xiaotian was weak, but his grip was strong, his fist clenched like a stone. “But it must be a lie.”
Yu Sheng shook his head, unsure whether he was denying it or expressing that he didn’t know.
“But I don’t care if he lies to me.”
“I’ll go get a basin of water.” Yu Sheng’s mind was in turmoil as he stood up abruptly, carrying the still-warm basin of water and heading outside.
He took a few steps to the door, pushed it open, and as one leg stepped outside, he paused, pulling it back, closing the door, and turning around with the basin.
“Maybe I’ll wait a bit before changing the water... hiccup... water.”
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