Faraway Wanderers Novel (English Translation)

Long Que [1]

Zhou Zishu sighed, knowing that he was fated to only ever brush shoulders with the word “pampered”. Slapping Wen Kexing’s arm away, he slotted Zhang Chengling between them and stood back to back with Wen Kexing, speaking in a low voice, “Of these artificial puppets, one is tough, and the other can’t be killed. But there are also benefits to them.”

Wen Kexing asked curiously, “There are still benefits?”

Zhou Zishu said, “One can’t jump, and the other is stupid.”

In the time he took to speak, two puppets had launched separate attacks from the two sides. Wen Kexing picked Zhang Chengling up. As though he had a telepathic connection with Zhou Zishu, they leapt in two separate directions at the same time. Instantly, those puppets lost their targets, crashed hard into each other, and toppled to the ground, entangled.

Wen Kexing swept his gaze over them. With a lecherous smile on his face, he covered Zhang Chengling’s eyes and sighed, “Looking at this top and this bottom[2] struggling, it’s like watching a pornographic picture start to move.”

Once Zhou Zishu landed, a puppet brought a huge stick down at his head. He flipped away to avoid it, feeling a burning pain from his chest to his throat, as though even the slightest cough could bring a mouthful of blood up, and gritted his teeth tight to hold his coughing back.

That puppet missed his strike, and continued pursuing him in dissatisfaction. It swept the stick at his chest, and Zhou Zishu bent backwards at the waist to avoid the blow. Spying the movement, Wen Kexing could not help but murmur, “That waist is sure flexible.”

Before that puppet could deliver its third strike, he lifted a hand and tossed Zhang Chengling over through the air. As he watched Zhang Chengling flail his arms and legs in panic, looking for all like a large toad experiencing muscle spasms, he spoke up and reminded him, "Have you eaten the sword techniques I taught you together with your meals?"

Zhang Chengling went "ah", and haphazardly threw himself on the puppet that was closing in on Zhou Zishu. Landing from above, he managed to cause that puppet to lose its balance, and boy and puppet toppled together. He jumped to his feet hastily, rubbing at where his ass hurt from falling on it, and asked, flustered from panic, "Senior, which…which move should I use?"

Zhou Zishu, who was taking the chance to catch his breath, grabbed his collar and threw him at Wen Kexing again, saying, “Stop adding trouble to the mix.”

The situation was still decent, for the three of them who had merely been dragged into this trouble. It was slightly worse for Ye Baiyi, who had directly offended the master of this place with his rude words: a dense swarm of human puppets surrounded him, clustering around him so tightly that water could hardly seep through the gaps between them. At the same time, this old man was even more stubborn in old age and was determined to go toe-to-toe with those puppets; it was a racket over there, as lively as a New Year’s celebration[3].

Zhou Zishu raised a fist to press it against his own chest, forcing back a mouthful of saccharine blood. To Wen Kexing, who was edging close to him, he said, "This can't do, I'm afraid we won't be able to hold out for long. Who knows how many puppets there are in this godforsaken place?"

Wen Kexing replied, “This place is called the Puppet Manor. He looks to be the only living being to me, while the rest are these objects.”

Zhou Zishu narrowed his eyes. “Makes sense. Looks like he’s also the only one that can be killed.”

The two of them exchanged a look. As neither of them were good apples, they were well-coordinated even without prior discussion. Once again, Wen Kexing flung Zhang Chengling out like the Gaoshan Slave's meteor hammer. Watching him pin another one to the ground as he howled, Zhou Zishu shot out in a glide, picked up that little tyke, and set him aside before the toppled puppet could beat him to death with its elbow. Then the tip of his foot touched the ground lightly, and he sprung at the strange man on the wheelchair, his body as quick and light as a sparrow's.