Faraway Wanderers Novel (English Translation)

Lord Seventh

Chapter 40.

Zhang Chengling felt woozy. The scorpion’s venom was probably starting to take effect: it was like thunder was booming right by his ear, the noise all around him sounding like it was separated from him by a layer of gauze—he could hear it, but it felt somewhat unreal.

He turned his head in the direction where the arrow had come from, and saw two men.  

The man with a small crossbow in his hand was dressed in navy blue robes, his long sleeves fluttering. A belt the width of a palm was fastened around his waist, and on the side of it, hung a white jade xiao. He did not look like someone of the jianghu, nor did he look like a scholar, but looked more like a noble who luxuriated in wealth. His hooded, amorous eyes seemed as if they held a slight trace of laughter, but upon closer examination, the look he shot at the last Poisonous Scorpion contained the glint of a cold light.

Through the haze in his mind, Zhang Chengling thought that this person…was the best-looking person that he had ever seen.

There was another man following at his side. Dressed in black, that man had a face that came off as frosty-looking. A small ferret sat on his shoulder.

That suicide warrior seemed to hesitate momentarily, before hurtling like an arrow released towards the man holding the bow. Zhang Chengling only felt an indescribably sharp gust of wind whip past his ear, and before he could realise what had happened, that Poisonous Scorpion had become a dead scorpion.

That man in black who had seemed to still be some distance away earlier was by his side in the blink of an eye. Bending down, he picked up Zhang Chengling’s bleeding hand to peruse it, and reached out to seal a few of his acupuncture points. Stuffing a pill into Zhang Chengling’s mouth, he said, “Swallow it. It is scorpion venom.”

Zhang Chengling could not care about anything else. He tugged at the hem of the man’s robes with great effort, saying, “Gu…Xiang…jie…please save…”

The sounds he had expended all of his energy to form blurred into one another once they reached his mouth, troubling the man in long robes next to him to pause for a moment. Yet, miraculously, the man still understood, and asked in a gentle voice, “You’re asking us to help you save someone? Where are they?”

Zhang Chengling extended a finger, pointing in the direction he had come from, mumbling, “Gu…jiejie…save…her, save…save…”

The man in black raised his head to glance at his companion. The man in long robes said, “Why aren’t you going?”

The man in black plucked the ferret from his shoulder and threw it into his arms. “Take care. I will return immediately.”

He was gone in a flash. Zhang Chengling fixed his eyes helplessly on where the man had vanished, his gaze nearly boring holes in earnest anxiety. That man in long robes helped him sit up and instructed, “Close your eyes, concentrate, don’t let your imagination run wild. Safeguard your own life first, before worrying about other things.”

Zhang Chengling knew that it was futile to worry any further, and so closed his eyes as instructed. That ferret wriggled out from that man’s robes, curled up into a ball, and sniffed around on him. A faint stench of blood wafted in the air, and a whiff of fragrance clung onto the man’s robes; it was amidst this kind of scent where Zhang Chengling gradually lost consciousness.