The injured one was wearing a hat, supported by a boy in his teens who had some basic kungfu in him, but the energy of which was still unstable. Like a sick bull, he was in a shortage of breath, helping the injured with strenuous effort. The last person was an old woman dressed like a servant, staggering behind them with a bag in her hold.

The young man walked through the door, scanning the shrine cautiously like a wounded animal. He didn’t notice Zhou Zishu as the latter was hidden in the statue’s casting shadow, his breath feather light. Turning to the man with the hat, he said quietly, “Uncle Li, let’s hide in here for a bit, your wound…”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as the one he was talking to struggled out of his assistance, trying his best to stand and made a salutation at the direction of Zhou Zishu, “Ah… This friend…”

He trailed off after raising his head. Zhou Zishu could see clearly too: this person was the fisherman he met before. On his back was a sword wound, soaking his entire body in crimson. The younger sat up straight, “It’s you!”

The fisherman laughed bitterly, “Damn it, of course it’s the beggar brat…”

He stumbled forward before he could finish, and the young boy hurriedly went to support him with his arms; but since the latter himself was out of strength, both tumbled to the ground with the boy sobbing, “Uncle Li…”

The fisherman spasmed suddenly. Zhou Zishu couldn’t help but walk over to examine the injury, noticing a strange purple color mixed in with the normal redness of blood, the effect of which being his deathly pale lips. He frowned.

The old man tried his hardest to smile and spoke in a low voice, “It’s not like you were shitting on your ancestors, boy, would you stop with the tears already? I’m not even dead yet…”

The woman was also wiping her tears, “Old Li, what would our young master do if something happened to you?”

He stared at her, inhaling with great difficulty and told the boy, shaking, “I… am just someone with no future… But I owed your father a long time ago, apart from my own life I have nothing else to pay this debt with…” He coughed and spasmed again right after, “Young man, remember this carefully…”

He didn’t get to tell the boy what to remember as more urgent footsteps could be heard outside the shrine. A man clad in black walked in; he didn’t even bother to cover his face, on which was a scar from a knife cut. Seeing the three cornered like rats, his mouth twisted. “You did well, being able to escape this far.”

The boy bit his lips. He pulled out the sword tied around his hip, throwing himself at the man in black, “I’m gonna kill you!”