“And are you going to starve yourself to death and let those things eat you instead?” Zhou Zishu replied and concluded, “How saintly of you, Brother Wen.”

The light couldn’t reach the cave, but fortunately Zhou Zishu brought with him some lighters since he planned on escaping in the night. There was also a luminous pearl that he stole from the riches; the pearl was small but it was enough for them to move around. The faint light cast over half of his face; and Wen Kexing saw not the unpleasant features, but very bright eyes that were directed at him, carrying an indescribable hint of playfulness.

That look was somewhat familiar.

Wen Kexing thought long and hard about it, but he couldn’t remember which beauty those eyes belonged to, so he stayed silent.

In the moment when both of them said nothing, Zhou Zishu’s ears caught the sound of a breath that was neither his nor Wen Kexing’s. He smiled—as expected, someone was not feeling very patient right now.

He then stood by the river and bent down to wash his hands, killing another monster that was sneakily attacking in the process. He lifted it up and threw it on the ground; the creature’s neck broke and it drew its last breath without even making a sound. Zhou Zishu scooped up the water and drank leisurely.

Wen Kexing—a carefree hoodlum himself—stared at his companion thoughtfully before using the tip of his toe to kick the corpse away and drank the river water like the other.

At that moment, a blade of wind came at them from behind. Wen Kexing dodged it by stepping aside, seemingly predicted it as he looked calm. A blade grazed his robes and fell into the water with a “Splash!”. Zhou Zishu laughed, his arms crossed as he stood to one side to enjoy the fun, “See, Brother Wen, didn’t I say that they’re after you? And you’re definitely not the good type either, seeing that they devote this much effort to deal with you.”

There were blades coming at him from every direction of the cave; those blades completely went past Zhou Zishu to charge at Wen Kexing, creating a maze of weapons—but Wen Kexing didn’t struggle at all, his qinggong so much more skillful than Zhou Zishu had estimated.

Internally, though, he was cursing—this Zhou person was such a vengeful and petty one; not only was he not good, he was utterly contemptible.

Wen Kexing lifted his arm to bat away another blade, which brushed Zhou Zishu’s pants and planted itself on the ground. “Is leaving one to sink or swim your way of gathering merits, my beautiful Zhou?”

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Footnotes.

1 Xinjiang is one of China’s administrative subdivision, located in the northwest of the country.

2 The central plains of China.