Inside the small courtyard, a group of Daoists gripped their swords with tense expressions, but none dared make a rash move.
Several Daoists kept watch in all four directions. The night was deep and dark, and they could see little, only faintly hearing the clash of weapons and wretched screams...
The wound on Wuzheng's arm had already been bandaged. He sat on a chair in the center of the courtyard, quietly meditating.
Wuming paced restlessly nearby, glancing at Wuzheng from time to time, wishing her senior brother would say something.
Cowering trapped in the courtyard like this was simply too foolish!
Yet she dared not speak carelessly. This was a life-and-death battle, terribly perilous and brutal.
A single word spoken wrong could cost many lives...
Having just seen the ground strewn with corpses, Wuming had gained an immediate, visceral understanding of the horror and cruelty of death.
All the more so, she worried about Zhou Wuji.
*Senior Brother Wuji told everyone else to go ahead while he stayed behind. It's been quite a while now. I wonder how he is doing?*
After pacing in circles a few more times, Wuming could no longer bear it. She whispered to Wuzheng, "Senior Brother, should I go check on Senior Brother Wuji?"
Wuzheng opened his eyes with some helplessness. "If you go, you'll only get in the way.
"Junior Brother Wuji is decisive, valiant, and meticulous, ten times better than me. If he cannot make it, none of us will escape death either. There's no need to overthink it—"
Before Wuzheng could finish, someone knocked at the gate outside: "Senior Brother, it's me."
Wuzheng was overjoyed at once and hurriedly ordered, "Quick, open the door!"
The Daoists on watch had not even seen anyone approach until then. Snapping out of their daze, they hurriedly pulled open the gate.
Zhou Wuji stepped inside, sword in hand. Everyone noticed his Daoist robe clinging to him, sopping wet, giving him a somewhat disheveled look.
To avoid drawing rogue soldiers, there was no lantern lit in the courtyard.
Even so, everyone quickly realized that Zhou Wuji's robe was soaked through with blood, and a thick stench of gore hung all around him.
Seeing this, everyone was horrified in their hearts. Just how many people had this man killed?!
Zhou Wuji had deliberately chosen not to change his clothes, wanting precisely this effect. How else would they know how hard he had fought, or how formidable he was?
He had risked his life in bloody battle to save everyone. If he didn't show it off a little, wouldn't his efforts be in vain?
Wuzheng rushed forward to meet him and asked, "How did it go?"
"We're safe for now. The bandits have all been dealt with," Zhou Wuji replied.
Hearing this answer, Wuzheng breathed a sigh of relief while being deeply shocked at the same time. All those rogue soldiers had been slain by Zhou Wuji alone! This junior brother, who had only just advanced to eighth-rank Qi Ingestion, actually possessed such godlike might!
The other Daoists were all stunned, their eyes filled with awe when they looked at Zhou Wuji. Only Wuming's eyes shone bright, her lovely face full of admiration...
Suppressing the tangled emotions in his chest, Wuzheng praised him aloud: "Today, it was fortunate that Junior Brother possesses such matchless swordsmanship. Otherwise, we all would have fallen as ghosts beneath the bandits' blades!"
As he spoke, the seventh-rank registered Daoist bowed deeply with cupped hands. Zhou Wuji reached out to help him up and said solemnly, "Senior Brother, speaking like that treats me too much like an outsider."
He paused, then added, "It was only because you fought with all your strength that I was fortunate enough to slay their leader."
Zhou Wuji was not merely being modest. In slaying that seventh-rank martial artist, Wuzheng truly had played a crucial role.
Having slain thirty-three rogue soldiers, Zhou Wuji had no need to overstate his own importance anyway.
On the contrary, before all these Daoists, he needed to help uphold Wuzheng's prestige as their leader.
These Daoists were all Wuzheng's men, bound by close ties of interest. Undermining Wuzheng would not make him the leader; it would only alienate everyone.
As a seventh-rank registered Daoist, Wuzheng was the leader chosen by the sect's vast institutional hierarchy.
Striking at Wuzheng was equivalent to defying the sect, which was completely unnecessary.
What he needed was not the title of Canglong Temple's Abbot, but the vast resources surrounding Canglong Temple.
Keeping Wuzheng out in front would also draw fire away from him.
Lastly, while Wuzheng had a somewhat stubborn temper, he was fundamentally a decent man.
Wuzheng was somewhat surprised by Zhou Wuji's attitude. After such a battle, Zhou Wuji did not vie for supremacy or try to outshine him, but was willing to yield precedence. Such depth of mind was truly extraordinary!
To Wuzheng, having Zhou Wuji be both lethal in battle and tactful in conduct was naturally a great blessing that saved him endless trouble. He fully intended to remember this immense debt of gratitude.
"You have worked hard, Junior Brother. Go back to your room and rest first."
Wuzheng took Zhou Wuji by the hand, escorted him into the room, and instructed disciples to fetch his clothes from the courtyard where they were staying.
Wuming had been watching eagerly from the side, unable to find an opening to speak. Seeing Zhou Wuji enter the room, she hurriedly followed him in.
Sitting down on a crude wooden bench in the outer room, Zhou Wuji let out a soft breath.
Having slaughtered so many rogue soldiers in succession, even with Great Mastery of his sword technique, he had endured immense pressure. Only now could he sit down, draw a long breath, and truly unwind.
"Senior Brother, are you hurt?" Wuming's bright, sparkling eyes swept over Zhou Wuji continuously. With large patches of sticky blood soaking his robe, it was impossible to tell whether he had been wounded.
Zhou Wuji shook his head slightly. "I'm fine, just somewhat exhausted. Sitting for a bit will do."
Wuming thought for a moment and suddenly clapped her hands together softly. She reached into her robes, produced a small medicine box, and took out a wax-sealed pill.
"A Purple Gold Eight Treasures Pill. It calms the spirit, gathers qi, fortifies the foundation, and replenishes blood—just what you need, Senior Brother..."
As she spoke, she crushed the wax seal and gently brought the pill to Zhou Wuji's lips.
Zhou Wuji was always cautious about what entered his mouth. There were too many bizarre, messy things in this world; external wounds were easy to treat, but if something invaded the viscera, it became troublesome.
Yet Wuming meant well, making it hard to refuse. Besides, this silly girl surely wouldn't harm him.
Even if Wuming were intentionally playing dumb, there would be no reason to plot against him in a situation like this.
Zhou Wuji swallowed the Purple Gold Eight Treasures Pill. It required no water; melting as soon as it touched his tongue, it transformed into a stream of heat that instantly invigorated his spirit.
The vast amount of true qi depleted in the fierce battle rapidly recovered, and even grew noticeably.
On a mental level, all exhaustion vanished. He felt full of vitality inside and out, fully restored to his peak condition.
Zhou Wuji secretly checked the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment. His lifespan showed no anomalies; instead, it had increased by more than ten days.
Truly an extraordinary medicine!
Soon, someone brought over Zhou Wuji's luggage, and Wuzheng had two buckets of hot water boiled so Zhou Wuji could give himself a quick wash.
Wiping away the sticky blood and changing into a clean inner tunic, Daoist robe, shoes, and socks, Zhou Wuji felt refreshed from head to toe, completely relaxed.
The most troublesome part was washing his hair. Undoing his topknot, he lowered his long hair into a wooden basin. Without modern conditioning shampoo, he could only use Chinese honey locust pods to clean the blood from his hair.
Wuming tiptoed in and said softly, "Senior Brother, let me help you..."
Without waiting for Zhou Wuji to speak, she reached out her fair hands and gently rubbed his long locks.
Zhou Wuji remained silent. While her technique could not compare to the shampoo girls of his previous life, it excelled in its gentleness and care.
At this distance, he could catch the faint, delicate fragrance of Wuming's body, which was rather pleasant.
Wuming had actually been waited on hand and foot since childhood, yet she managed a decent job imitating what she had seen.
Moreover, she did this with wholehearted willingness, feeling only joy at being able to help her senior brother.
She took out her own cotton towel, carefully dried Zhou Wuji's hair, helped him put it up in a topknot, and tied on his Xiaoyao cap.
Looking at Zhou Wuji again—transformed from his terrifying, blood-drenched appearance back into a handsome, elegant figure—she felt even happier inside.
Zhou Wuji touched the half-dry topknot, thinking that fortunately his constitution was strong; otherwise, going around with a damp head made it very easy to catch a cold or develop a fever.
In this era, bathing and washing hair consumed a great deal of firewood, making it quite a luxury.
Furthermore, ordinary folk lacked basic knowledge of health care and fell ill easily after washing, so most people bathed very rarely.
Zhou Wuji complained inwardly, but smiled warmly as he thanked Wuming.
Her cheeks flushed, Wuming waved her hands repeatedly. "For such a small thing, Senior Brother doesn't need to thank me."
Seeing how cute her shy demeanor was, Zhou Wuji couldn't help teasing her in a low voice, "Then how about I have you wash my hair every time from now on, Junior Sister?"
Her lovely cheeks grew even redder. Lowering her gaze slightly, she let out a soft "Mm" from her throat.
"Ahem..."
Wuzheng coughed lightly from the outer room and called out, "Junior Brother, I'm coming in."
Wuzheng had waited for quite some time, and his patience was wearing thin.
With so many dead, this matter could not simply be dropped! He needed to get a clear picture of the situation from Zhou Wuji, and then discuss how to resolve the crisis...
Chapter 31