Die Kampfsportwelt ist ein Sumpf - Kapitel 2
But at this moment, her mind was scattered. Though her confused eyes retained a fleeting clarity as she tried to observe the other person's attire, the result only confirmed her own suspicions. They really were different. Different from herself, and different from the people on earth.
Her vision went black, her legs buckled, and she involuntarily took a step back. And it was this one step that caused her to truly soar away like a phoenix bathed in blood.
The body plummeted rapidly, and screams echoed from the cliff.
It is said that before a person dies, there are a few seconds when they go through all the events of their previous life.
Sure enough, like a movie slideshow, countless scenes flashed before my eyes in an instant.
I'm so sorry, sister. You must be in unbearable pain.
I'm sorry, brother. I've been too harsh on you in this life. If you prefer to live a life of inaction, wouldn't that be better?
I'm sorry, nephew. I promised to teach you how to drive, and I promised to buy you a car if you get into university. I broke my promise.
My dearest parents, Ziju has come to find you. Ziju is so happy; this has been Ziju's wish for many years.
My body continued to fall, like a drifting leaf in the high cliff.
The wind whistled past his ears, whipping the blood-red robes high into the air like billowing sails.
Go forth, let your soul break free from the body's shackles and fly freely.
My body suddenly froze, and I was plunged into endless emptiness.
[Volume 1, Deer City Chapter: Chapter 2, Layered Clouds (Part 1)]
"Let's drink and sing, for life is short... glug... glug..."
A young man in blue sat casually on a blue stone, holding a wine pot and taking two sips.
"This Juyun Brew is really delicious. No wonder Master is always so stingy. I'll have to drink a few more sips while Master is away today." The young man in blue muttered as he found an empty spot to lie down.
The sun shines brightly, the air is fresh and sweet. I close my eyes, savoring the lingering fragrance. I raise my hand for another bite.
"Ouch! Cough cough... cough cough..." Just as he was holding a mouthful of fine wine, a rock the size of a bowl hit him on the head, causing the wine to choke into his nose and making him cough violently.
He rubbed the large bump that had suddenly swelled up on his forehead, and was about to yell angrily when he suddenly saw something come crashing down on him.
Instinctively, I wanted to dodge, but upon closer inspection and hesitation, the heavy object was already in front of me.
Without time to think, he put down the wine pot, quickly channeled his internal energy to dissipate the downward force, and the heavy object landed on him with a "thud".
"Cough cough..." Another coughing fit. Luckily, he used his internal energy in time, otherwise he would have been turned into a meat pie by now.
He angrily pushed the object off him, turned around to take a closer look, and realized it was a person, and a soldier in armor at that.
Recalling the deafening roar from the cliff that morning, I understood a few things.
He took out his hand to feel the pulse. How could a grown man have such delicate, white hands? It must be that some spoiled brat who insisted on playing around and almost lost his life.
The pulse is barely perceptible, extremely weak. This person suffers severe internal injuries and excessive blood loss. Without immediate medical attention, death is certain.
He glanced at the arrow in his chest, then at the wound in his abdomen where the blood had already drained, and sighed. "Alas, what can I do when I have such a compassionate heart?"
He pressed his hands against the man's abdomen, channeled his internal energy to heal the wound, and temporarily stopped the bleeding from his internal organs.
He then took out a shriveled gourd from his person, poured out a pill, removed the man's helmet, pinched his chin, and stuffed the pill into his mouth.
You wouldn't guess he was actually quite handsome.
But the man was already unconscious, unable to swallow the pill. I reached out and patted his face, trying to knock the pill down.
I don't know why, but seeing that face makes me want to torture it. Who told you, a grown man, to look like that? You deserve it! Even though his face was already red from being slapped, the pill was still sitting there.
"I've got it!" The boy slapped his forehead and turned to look around.
After picking up the wine jug, he started cursing again. "You stinking man, it's all your fault, you've spilled it all."
He shook the wine jug and poured the last sip into his mouth.
He walked up to the unconscious person, bent down, and poured the wine from his mouth into the person's mouth.
The moment their lips touched, my heart started pounding uncontrollably; the soft, smooth sensation pierced my brain. Perhaps I'd had too much to drink? My face burned. I just couldn't understand myself; the pill was already down my throat, so why was it still pressed against my face?
Suddenly realizing this, I jumped up as fast as I could, but I still couldn't calm my wildly beating heart.
"You filthy man, you're neither male nor female, you're making my heart race." Saying this, she stepped forward and kicked the man.
Seeing the brow furrowed in pain, she couldn't bear it any longer. "Sigh, forget it. I was trying to save someone, and now I've kicked them to death. Humph, I'll spare you." With that, she turned and disappeared.
About half an hour later, the man returned, this time carrying a bundle.
He knelt on the ground and untied the bundle. Inside, besides bottles and jars, there was a wooden box. Opening the box, he found needles, surgical instruments, and everything else he needed.
He picked up a dagger and used it to cut open the clothes of the people on the ground. He didn't know how to remove the armor, but he just used the dagger to cut it open, and silver pieces scattered all over the ground.
The inner robe was torn open, revealing a wound more than an inch long on the abdomen. A wide white silk ribbon was wrapped around the pale chest, perhaps indicating an old wound there, as the arrowhead pierced through the ribbon. Fortunately, it had come out; otherwise, pulling out the arrow would have pulled out flesh, leaving a scar.
For some reason, he couldn't bear to leave scars on this body, so he brought his master's best medicine.
The wound was cleaned by pouring alcohol over it, then powdered medicine was sprinkled on it, a plaster was applied, and it was bandaged up.
The dagger sliced open the middle of the white silk ribbon and ripped it off. As the ribbon was removed, he was stunned.