Chapter 128
Fang Zichen pulled two damp cotton balls from his nostrils, took a deep breath, his expression becoming ethereal, then blinked and asked, "What should we do now?"
Master Wu covered his mouth and coughed several times, then pointed at a middle-aged man on the ground, his voice hoarse, "You go and try to wake him up. If he wakes, have him go back and report to the authorities."
"Oh!" Fang Zichen walked over.
Yang Mingyi watched as he first pushed the man a couple of times, calling out, "Uncle, wake up. The sun is baking your backside."
Fang Zichen frowned. "What now? This guy is like a pig! He won't wake up."
Master Wu sighed. "He's been drugged. Try calling him again."
Fang Zichen called out a few more times, but the other man remained like a corpse. Eager to get home, Fang Zichen grew angry, grabbed the man by his collar, and slapped him twice across the face. Slap, slap.
"...Wake up, wake up! Wake the hell up..."
Yang Mingyi couldn't help but cover his own face, feeling it sting even more.
The uncle slowly woke up, his face burning. The area was vast, but the smell of blood remained thick. Moans of pain reached his ears. He instinctively looked around, saw the two severed limbs, his eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet.
"What happened?"
Earlier, when the bandits had charged out, they immediately blew drugged smoke at them without a word. What happened after that, they had no idea.
"We encountered mountain bandits," Master Wu said. "Ride quickly to report this to the magistrate, and then send a message to the residence to inform them of what has happened."
"...Yes."
After the man left, Fang Zichen went into the woods to retrieve his bundle. "Then I'll be leaving now!"
Yang Mingyi instinctively grabbed hold of his clothes.
Fang Zichen: "..."
Fang Zichen's brow furrowed slightly, feeling this was trouble. Just moments ago, he had descended like a divine warrior from heaven, rescuing Yang Mingyi from dire straits. He had been excessively impressive, wildly cool and domineering while fighting, his moves clean and effortlessly impressive. If... Yang Mingyi had consequently fallen irrevocably in love with him, he should probably be understanding.
But they were impossible.
He already had Zhao Ger. He was a good man and could absolutely not do anything to betray Zhao Ger.
Moreover, Yang Mingyi was too young. He wasn't a beast, how could he get involved with him?
He coughed once, his expression serious and stern.
"Yi Ger, there is no possibility for us."
Yang Mingyi: "..."
"You're young, immature, prone to impulse. It's very difficult to distinguish between admiration, gratitude, and fondness when they're all mixed together. Although I saved you, pledging yourself to me in marriage is absolutely out of the question. If you really want to thank me..." Fang Zichen rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. "...just giving me a few hundred taels as a token of appreciation would be sufficient."
Yang Mingyi: "..."
Yang Mingyi let go of his hand. "Brother Fang, you've misunderstood. I... I was just scared."
"...Oh. Then I'll wait until someone arrives before leaving," Fang Zichen said, his face red.
Master Wu glared at him fiercely.
Originally, Master Wu had felt grateful towards Fang Zichen. But that one sentence from Fang Zichen just now had blown his gratitude away to vanish without a trace.
Were those words meant to look down on my Yi Ger, or what?
Fang Zichen was displeased. "Old man, don't look at me like that."
"A toad lusting after swan meat." Master Wu snorted, then started coughing repeatedly.
[癞蛤蟆想吃天鹅肉 (lài háma xiǎng chī tiān'é ròu): lit. A toad lusting after swan meat; fig. Having unrealistic or presumptuous ambitions, especially of a man seeking a woman far above his station.]
These words were unpleasant to hear.
While Yang Mingyi is good, I'm not bad either, right?
Comparing me to anything else would be fine, but comparing me to a toad? This old man really has no taste!
Fang Zichen felt quite upset. Seeing the old man cough up blood, he grew somewhat concerned and said, "Old man, are you alright?"
Meeting Yang Mingyi's worried and self-blaming gaze, Master Wu shook his head. "It's nothing. Just feeling uncomfortably tight in the chest."
"Then why are you shaking so badly?" Fang Zichen said. "Is it your old rheumatic legs acting up? Do you need me to help you into the carriage to rest?"
Master Wu gritted his teeth. "No need."
After all, the old man had shown him kindness earlier. Fang Zichen was still concerned and looked him over carefully.
Master Wu had been beaten quite severely, but it wasn't fatal. He was just old, his age was catching up to him, and he probably couldn't recover as quickly as a young person.
"Old man, don't be scared anymore. Look how frightened you are, your legs are shaking so badly you might fall. Ah, you're so old, how have you still not built up your courage?"
Master Wu: "..."
Master Wu took a deep, slow breath. "I am old. I truly cannot compare to you young people anymore."
Fang Zichen nodded in agreement. "Indeed. After all, 'the Yangtze River's rear waves push the front waves, the front waves die on the beach.' That saying holds true."
[长江后浪推前浪，前浪死在沙滩上 (Cháng Jiāng hòu làng tuī qián làng, qián làng sǐ zài shā tān shàng): lit. The Yangtze River's rear waves push the front waves, the front waves die on the beach; fig. The new generation surpasses the old, rendering the previous generation obsolete.]
Master Wu felt deeply frustrated, the pain in his chest tightening further. "Have you trained in martial arts?"
When Fang Zichen fought, his movements were fluid and precise, each strike seamlessly transitioning into the next, showcasing his mastery of form and power. It was a calculated display, not reckless flailing.
Moreover, his reaction to danger was exceptionally sharp. When he struck, it was so swift it seemed deeply ingrained in his bones, his attacks an instinctive physical response.
Master Wu had witnessed countless exceptionally talented young men. The best of the younger generation at Qinghe Academy was nothing out of the ordinary to him. Even so, none could master poetry, lyrics, songs, and prose all perfectly. Besides literature, some excelled at the qin, some were skilled in painting, but those skilled in music or painting did not shine in literature. To find one who excelled in both the literary and martial arts was truly impossible.
Master Wu had originally thought he had gathered all the talented young men of Yuanzhou within his net. But now, having met Fang Zichen, he felt that there were mountains beyond mountains, and men beyond men.
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