Zhan Zhao Adventures - Chapter One (Part II)

Chapter One: The Youthful Traveler (Part II)

The Tang Clan assassins remained standing as rigid as iron nails, but Ge Yunfei collapsed to the floor.

 

A pair of black boots slowly moved to his side. A hand clad in a black leather glove reached down and methodically untied the blue-and-white floral cloth bundle from his back.

 

A deep, blue tint bled from Ge Yunfei’s eyes, accompanied by a profound expression of despair.

 

From the beginning to the end, the three Tang Clan assassins had spoken only that single phrase: “Leave your things, and you shall live.”

 

Ge Yunfei had refused to part with his belongings, so he naturally could not keep his life.

 

It was likely that even in death, he remained unaware that his opponents were the elite assassins of the Tang Clan’s notorious "Hall of True Alignment." The killers of this hall were not only feared for their mastery of poisons; their superlative martial arts were the pride of the Tang Clan and a constant source of dread throughout the martial world.

 

Perhaps he died without ever knowing how precious the treasure hidden within that bundle truly was.

 

The three assassins turned around, their six icy gazes sweeping over the youth in the yellow tunic.

 

In the brief moment they had taken to withstand Ge Yunfei’s final, desperate throw, they had only caught a glimpse of the youth's remarkable skill when he intercepted the flying halberd.

 

The youth let out a playful giggle and crossed his legs once more, completely unfazed by their scrutiny. It was impossible to deduce his background. His large yellow dog, however, bared its teeth and let out a low, menacing growl.

 

As the standoff hung in the balance, several streaks of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating the inn as bright as day for a fleeting moment.

 

With a loud crack, an old locust tree outside was split clean in half. A cluster of broken branches ignited into flames, only to be instantly snuffed out by the torrential rain.

 

By the time the shaken guests turned their attention back to the room, the three Tang Clan assassins, who had just been standing there like immovable iron spikes, had vanished without a trace.

 

The gruesome scene of bodies strewn across the floor and the nauseating stench of blood weighed so heavily on the inn that it felt on the verge of collapse. After a long pause, the stout, elderly innkeeper finally summoned the courage to poke his head out, looking left and right. Trembling, the guests slowly began to follow his lead.

 

The youth in yellow frowned, seemingly lost in deep thought. He only half-listened to the frantic whispers of the crowd around him.

 

— "So many people dead!"

 

— "Innkeeper, shouldn't you report this to the authorities immediately?"

 

— "Yes, exactly! With this many bodies, hurry and call the guards!"

 

— "Is there even a need to report it? These past few days, the Prince's personal troops have been searching for fugitives every single day. We probably won't even have to wait for the local magistrate's men; they'll likely arrive on their own."

 

— "Tell me, who is that young lad in the yellow tunic?"

 

— "Hey, look! The child who came with the Fortune Cloud Villa people is alive!"

 

— "He doesn't seem to be hurt either, just frightened out of his wits."

 

Suddenly, the crowd scattered outward like they had seen a ghost, scrambling to hide behind the youth in yellow.

 

Startled by their sudden movement, the youth raised his head, only to see Ge Yunfei.

 

Ge Yunfei was drenched in blood, which was now mixed with a faint, unnatural blue hue. He wasn’t dead yet. He was crawling.

 

Using his hands and knees, he dragged himself across the floor, crawling straight toward the freckled boy.

 

His face was violently distorted, and a string of saliva spilled from his mouth, which was missing several front teeth.

 

The frail boy seemed completely paralyzed with fear by the hideous, twisted face. He sat slumped beneath the window, motionless, allowing the gale to drive the rain inside, soaking him to the bone.

 

Before anyone could react, Ge Yunfei lunged forward and lunged at the boy, grabbing his arm.

 

The boy let out a sharp cry, a hoarse sound that resembled a desperate wail.

 

Ge Yunfei possessed no strength left, but at the precipice of life and death, he acted purely on malicious instinct. Raising a dagger, he drove it toward the boy.

 

The boy let out an agonizing shriek as blood erupted from his arm like a fountain. Ge Yunfei clamped down on his arm, pulling the boy toward his own chest, dragging him down onto the floor.

 

The youth in yellow gasped in shock. He had not anticipated that Ge Yunfei would still be breathing, let alone that he would be brutal enough to attack a helpless child. Ge Yunfei’s first strike had caught him entirely off guard, making it impossible to save the boy in time, but he could certainly stop a second strike.

 

In the blink of an eye, his yellow robes blurred. Moving under the flickering candlelight and lightning, he arrived beside the two of them. He raised his palm to intervene, only to see that Ge Yunfei’s eyes were wide and completely glassy. He was motionless; he had already breathed his last.

 

The youth in yellow shook his head gently and murmured, "Is the Tang Clan’s poison truly this lethal?"

 

He knelt beside the boy and asked softly, "Little brother, what is your name?" As he spoke, he deftly tapped the acupoints on the boy’s arm to stem the flow of blood, then pulled out a handkerchief to bandage the wound. His dog, San'er, came trotting over, wagging its tail and sniffing around the child.

 

The child could only make choked, guttural noises, unable to form words. He was mute.

 

Seeing that the child was comfortable around San'er, seemingly forgetting the pain in his arm, the youth smiled. "Do you like him?"

 

The youth seemed to possess a natural gift for making others lower their guard. His warm, smiling demeanor instantly dissolved the awkwardness of being strangers.

 

The boy nodded shyly.

 

The youth remarked, "Ah, so you cannot speak, but you can understand me perfectly. You are mute, but you are not deaf."

 

The boy nodded once more.

 

The youth smiled and pointed at the yellow dog. "Do you want to know his name? He’s called 'Three Wolves.' If there's someone he doesn't like, he bites bad guys harder than three wolves put together." As he chatted, he gently rolled up the child’s sleeve to secure the bandage.

 

Another bolt of lightning ripped across the sky, turning the world blindingly white for a fraction of a second. By that fleeting illumination, the youth in yellow suddenly gasped, catching his breath.

 

The boy’s arm was covered in countless scars, a chaotic mix of old and new. They ran horizontally and vertically in dense, varying depths—he had been cut or stabbed an unimaginable number of times.

 

The youth’s brows knitted tightly together. Having finished bandaging the wound, he mused quietly, "Who inflicted so many injuries upon you? Who exactly are you?"