Schatzkammer von Jianghu

Kapitel 31

Cheng Xiang sighed softly, reached out and spread another brocade quilt on his bedding, then knelt down...

Lonely Triumph opened his eyes, as dark as a deep pool.

Cheng Xiang chuckled awkwardly, "Don't misunderstand, I just wanted to give you an extra blanket..."

"Is the war over?" Lonely Triumph suddenly asked calmly, as if he knew everything that was happening outside.

"No, but we need to leave quickly, the city is about to collapse..."

Lonely Triumph suddenly reached out and grabbed Cheng Xiang's wrist. He stared intently into Cheng Xiang's eyes and asked urgently, "How did you know?"

Cheng Xiang shook off his hand and gave a cold laugh: "I don't know anything. All I know is that if you keep dawdling, you won't be able to save ourselves, and you'll also delay my rescue of the people outside the city."

Lonely Triumph took a deep breath, supported himself on the side of the bed with his right hand, and struggled to get up, but he didn't look at Cheng Xiang again.

Cheng Xiang rushed over and firmly pinned Gu Du Kaixuan down, shouting fiercely, "I'm telling you, isn't that enough? I'm telling you, isn't that enough? I met someone..." Cheng Xiang turned her back to Gu Du Kaixuan, not letting him see the glistening tears in her eyes, "He told me this city will be gone in an instant, he asked me about Wu Sanshou, he's the Chu Yi you've been thinking about..."

With a "whoosh," a flash of light swept past Cheng Xiang, disappearing into the snowy sky in the blink of an eye after a few leaps.

Cheng Xiang remained motionless for a moment before turning around expressionlessly, glancing into the inner room, and muttering to herself, "Thank goodness, I remembered to bring warm clothes..."

Leng Shuangcheng leaped up and down on the snow-covered eaves, surveying the terrain. Upon spotting a tall, imposing house, his face lit up with joy, and he leaped forward with all his might.

Landing in the backyard of the prefectural government, Leng Shuangcheng walked along the corridor, his gaze falling on the edge of a well built on a high platform, and he stopped.

He stepped forward steadily and looked down to examine the area.

The well's edge was covered in snow, and the inner walls were covered in green moss, with a bluish light reflecting off the white shadows, creating a shimmering scene.

Leng Shuangcheng shattered the snow on the well platform with a palm strike, then reached out and scraped the well wall. The smooth, slippery surface made his eyes darken. He took a deep breath and leaped into the well without hesitation.

His body descended rapidly, the only sound the whistling wind in his ears. The hem of his clothes fluttered, obscuring Leng Shuangcheng's eyes. He clapped his hands lightly, the wind from his palms cutting against the well wall, leaving shallow marks along the way.

Reaching the bottom of the well, Leng Shuangcheng fell onto the thick snow, leaving a deep crater. He looked up at the well wall and realized that his palm strike hadn't even budged the rock, leaving only a few blurry marks. The well opening directly above him was so small that only a tiny sliver of light remained…

Leng Shuangcheng withdrew his gaze, flicked the tinderbox, and a little light immediately illuminated the cave. He looked up at the cave wall and noticed several torches stuck in them. He gently took them down and lit one. Then, he carefully looked at the stone walls on both sides and saw that one torch was indeed missing—it seemed that someone had arrived before him, and that person was very likely Wu Sanshou.

Leng Shuangcheng picked up the torch and quietly walked into the darkness.

After walking for about half an incense stick's time, Leng Shuangcheng turned into the left fork in the road and continued on. After a while, three paths appeared in front of him, but Wu Sanshou was still nowhere to be seen. He took out the small wooden ocarina (the little trinket Yang Wan had left behind that night), put it in his mouth, and began to play it.

The voice was low and mournful, drifting into the various caves, and sounded particularly clear in the silent, dark tunnels.

Leng Shuangcheng lowered his eyes, channeled his inner strength, and played a popular folk tune from the Tang Dynasty, "Asking for Directions," to the best of his ability. This folk song tells a story similar to Jia Dao's "Seeking a Hermit in Vain," only it has been embellished and modified by the common people, changing it into a story of a young man asking a girl for directions, but the girl avoids answering and only points to the deep mountains behind her.

Leng Shuangcheng silently played the flute several times, hoping in his heart that Wu Sanshou could understand his meaning. After all, Wu Sanshou was a down-on-his-luck scholar who had read extensively in classical literature!

After Leng Shuangcheng finished playing the melody for the fourth time, a faint whisper was finally heard: "Acheng, you really are..."

Leng Shuangcheng was overjoyed and leaped towards the source of the sound, the torch in her hand suddenly stretched into a blur of light, flickering on and off. "Wu You, are you alright?"

Wu Sanshou silently emerged from the shadows, staring intently at Leng Shuangcheng's face, and said coldly, "You are truly foolish."

Leng Shuangcheng ignored him, simply circling Wu Sanshou's body and anxiously asking, "Did Young Master Bixie torture you?"

“He wouldn’t even deign to lay a hand on a scholar like me who can’t even kill a chicken,” Wu Sanshou sneered, his expression still showing no improvement.

"Stretch out your hand," Leng Shuangcheng suddenly said.

Wu Sanshou, unaware of what was happening, still extended his hand. Leng Shuangcheng firmly grasped Wu Sanshou's pulse, silently moving three fingers to rest on the main vein. After a while, he said in a low voice, "Young Master Bixie inserted a needle into your acupoint. You need to circulate your internal energy twice a day, at midnight and dawn, to guide the needle and prevent it from wandering into your internal organs. It seems you've suffered quite a bit these past few days..."

Wu Sanshou snorted coldly again: "With you coming here, all my suffering has been for nothing."

Leng Shuangcheng smiled slightly, still ignoring Wu Sanshou's anger, and continued, "His technique is extremely peculiar. Ordinary people would never be able to figure out his method of channeling energy. But fortunately, I can force out the silver needles for you."

Wu Sanshou stood silently, his hands hanging limply in his sleeves, staring at the torch. Leng Shuangcheng placed the torch in the hole in the wall as well, smiling patiently at him. This smile was genuine, the joy of reuniting with loved ones after enduring countless hardships.

After a long while, Wu Sanshou finally sighed, "So be it, it's better to die together."

Leng Shuangcheng sat down on the ground and looked up at Wu Sanshou: "Sit down."

Wu San obediently sat down in front of Leng Shuangcheng, and then heard that calm voice say, "Relax your body. There will definitely be some pain, but don't try to resist it with your internal energy..."

"Hmm," Wu San replied softly.

Leng Shuangcheng placed her palm on Wu Sanshou's back and began to circulate her internal energy. A short while later, Wu Sanshou's body trembled slightly, and Leng Shuangcheng's face was covered in cold sweat; both of them had wisps of white mist gathering above their heads. Just as Wu Sanshou's left arm trembled violently, Leng Shuangcheng suddenly moved her hands with lightning speed, channeling her energy into the silver needles she had prepared beforehand, and steadily inserted one needle into each of the Quchi and Yangxi acupoints.

Wu Sanshou felt as if ants were gnawing at the outside of his left arm, causing an unbearable itch. Before he could scratch with his right hand, he heard a low voice behind him: "Don't move." Immediately afterward, a palm slapped his left shoulder, and a ray of silver light shot into the air, piercing through the fingertips and flying into the darkness.

Wu Sanshou was greatly surprised. He jumped up and moved his hands, finding them easy and comfortable. He couldn't help but grin, "Acheng is truly omnipotent..." Then, turning back to see Leng Shuangcheng's pale face and panting body, his voice trailed off. He rushed over, helped Leng Shuangcheng up, and kept asking anxiously, "What's wrong? What happened to you?"

Leng Shuangcheng took a step back somewhat awkwardly, only placing a hand on Wu Sanshou's left arm: "That's not how it is. There are many things I don't know. I just blew that wooden ocarina into a complete mess..."

Wu Sanshou remained silent for a long time before finally uttering a faint sound: "It's alright... not unbearable to hear..."

Leng Shuangcheng gripped Wu Sanshou's arm tightly, his fingers turning white, clearly exerting a lot of force. Wu Sanshou looked down at his arm, enduring the pain, and asked, "Are you really alright?"

Leng Shuangcheng forced himself to stand properly: "Go and pick up that silver needle."

Wu Sanshou did as instructed, picked up the long needle, and handed it to Leng Shuangcheng. "Your body..."

Leng Shuangcheng held up the silver needles, examining their shafts under the fire. Sweat streamed down his face, his complexion pale, yet he managed a weak, forced smile: "A short rest will do." He glanced at Wu Sanshou's worried face, thought for a moment, and then asked, "What brings Young Master Bixie here?"

Wu Sanshou used both hands to help Leng Shuangcheng up, and replied calmly, "He didn't say anything, he just threw me in here. I walked around just now and couldn't find the exit. The ground is full of hidden channels, and I don't know what they're for."

Leng Shuangcheng tightened his grip on Wu Sanshou's hand, causing Wu Sanshou to gasp softly. Leng Shuangcheng seemed to sense this and gave a wry smile: "I'm sorry."

"It's because Acheng found out something, isn't it?" Wu San held a torch in one hand and dangled Leng Shuangcheng in the other, slowly following him forward.

"That hidden channel used to be the coal transport pipeline of the government's private mines."

"No wonder it looks like someone has lived here before..."

"Wu You, how did you know to go this way?"

"I just wandered around based on my instincts."

Leng Shuangcheng grabbed Wu Sanshou's arm: "Stop, let me rest for a bit."

Wu Sanshou lowered his body somewhat anxiously, squatting down beside him to carefully examine his complexion. Sweat was constantly seeping from Leng Shuangcheng's face, but he kept his lips pursed, not letting Wu Sanshou notice.

Leng Shuangcheng crossed his legs, clasped his hands together, and slowly began to breathe and regulate his breathing. Wu Sanshou sat silently beside him, watching his face.

After an unknown amount of time, several loud coughs suddenly echoed through the silent tunnel, like a breeze passing through the winding cave.

Wu Sanshou's expression changed, and he was about to get up when Leng Shuangcheng grabbed his arm. "Don't hurt him, it's Young Master Lonely."

"Which lonely young master?"

"How many lonely young masters are left in the martial world?"

"A triumphant return alone? What is he doing here?" Wu Sanshou asked blankly, unable to contain his surprise.

Leng Shuangcheng cast his gaze into the endless darkness and shook his head slightly.

Inside the quiet cave, the sound of steady footsteps, one step at a time, came from within. Bathed in the dim firelight, a tall, handsome young man emerged.

This was the first time Wu Sanshou had seen Lone Triumph, and in such a bizarre setting.

The young nobleman before me possessed an indescribable air of nobility and loneliness, perhaps because he wore a thick brocade quilt over his fur coat. His eyes, illuminated by the firelight, were deep and unfathomable, his face pale, and his handsome features sloping down to his gaunt chin. He did nothing, merely standing a few steps away from the two of them, quietly watching. The light fell behind him, forming a long, slender, and silent silhouette.

Wu Sanshou couldn't help but look back at his master and himself, both of them disheveled and filthy, while the noble young man in front of him was tall, elegant, and graceful, as if one was a celestial being banished from heaven and the other was mud on the ground.

"The Lonely Town Lord?" The three remained silent for a moment before Wu Sanshou broke the silence first.

“Exactly.” Lonely Triumph’s gaze fell on the two men’s clasped arms, and he said calmly.

Leng Shuangcheng recalled Cheng Xiang's words, and a thought struck him. He grabbed Wu San's arm and used it to stand up: "Young Master Lonely, may I take a look at your pulse..."

"So you also know medicine. I wonder if you can cure my illness and save my life?" Lonely Triumph remained standing in the shadows, his voice indifferent.

Wu Sanshou's eyes were filled with doubt as he looked at Leng Shuangcheng. Leng Shuangcheng's gaze remained fixed on the opposite side, but his right hand subtly tugged at Wu Sanshou's sleeve.

Wu Sanshou felt that everything was filled with an eerie atmosphere. He turned around and looked at Lonely Triumph: "What disease is so stubborn?"

"I met a young girl, and while we were together, I didn't feel particularly happy. I arrogantly thought I could get used to it after we parted. But after I left her, I discovered I had a terrible illness—the food I used to love became unpalatable, the places I used to be familiar with became unrecognizable, and her image floated in the air with me as I ate, rested, walked, and spoke. In windy, snowy, sunny, and rainy weather, I was always blankly thinking about the same few questions: Is she alright? Is she well-fed and clothed? Does she have a place to stay? Is she sleeping in the open or resting in a hotel? Especially after I heard she went to Ruzhou, my body ached more and more, and I often couldn't breathe, just like now..."

Lonely Triumph clutched his chest, coughing heavily. Tiny drops of blood seeped onto his mink coat, staining it like plum blossoms. As he suppressed his cough, he extended a clean, white wrist and walked straight toward Leng Shuangcheng, his tone still cold: "Chu Yi, do you think I can still live?"

32. Dilemma

In the candlelight, the lonely, triumphant face gradually became clear. His pupils burned with intensity, unable to see anyone else, his gaze fixed intently on Chu Yi's calm, expressionless face. That gaze was so intense, like that of someone who had been thirsty for a long time and had finally found a small oasis after countless hardships.

Leng Shuangcheng looked at him silently, without responding.

"This is you, first year of junior high. If it were an ordinary person, even if they weren't full of surprise, they would definitely show excitement. But you just stood there so heartlessly, watching me struggle to survive. I often think that it would be better to come and see you and die happily than to die a monotonous death from illness."

Lonely Triumph walked step by step to Leng Shuangcheng, lowered his head, and gazed into his eyes.

Wu Sanshou, who had been silent all along, turned around with great difficulty, snapping out of his dazed state, and called out in surprise, "Acheng..."

Leng Shuangcheng's face was silent. He released Wu Sanshou's left arm and then raised his fingers to pinch Gu Dukaixuan's pulse.

"So your name is Acheng..." Lonely Triumph coughed as he spoke, "I'm not even worthy to know your name. I've always had a feeling that the closer I get to you, the further you'll break free. Before I saved you, you spoke to me humbly, but calmly. Now that I see you, you actually refer to yourself as 'this humble one,' Chu Yi, are you determined to keep your distance?"

In the end, Gu Dukaixuan lowered his head and placed it on Leng Shuangcheng's shoulder, unable to suppress a series of coughs. Leng Shuangcheng gently patted his back, running her hand through his hair, and silently watched Wu Sanshou.

Wu Sanshou stood under the torchlight, stunned, speechless for a long time. After a while, he suddenly saw that smile on Leng Shuangcheng's face again, like a forsythia on a cliff, silent and desolate.

"Young master, I cannot even save myself, how can I save you?"

After saying this, Leng Shuangcheng suddenly pressed on Gu Dukaixuan's acupoints, steadily supporting his body, and turned to Wu Sanshou, saying, "Help me support him, I'll remove the needles for him."

“Acheng, your injury just now…” Wu Sanshou looked at Leng Shuangcheng hesitantly.

"It's alright. This young master is our savior; we must ensure he lives. Stop dawdling; the dungeon isn't safe!"

Wu San reached out and took Gu Du Kaixuan, making him kneel before him, still saying, "How did Young Master Gu become my benefactor again..."

"I'll tell you later." Leng Shuangcheng began to heal Gu Dukaixuan's injuries, and Wu Sanshou silently shut his mouth.

After a short while, Leng Shuang forced out the silver needles for Lonely Triumph. Before she could say anything to Wu Sanshou, her body swayed and she fell to the ground.

Wu Sanshou was shocked. He laid Gu Dukaixuan down flat and went closer to examine Leng Shuangcheng's face.

Leng Shuangcheng breathed lightly, his eyes opening and closing, and beads of sweat bursting down his face like a waterfall. Wu San helped him up and sat him against the cave wall, wiping his face with his sleeve.

After a long while, Leng Shuangcheng's breathing became steady. She slowly moved her body and began to meditate and regulate her breathing.

For a moment, the cave returned to its previous silence.