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Farawaway Wanderers Chapter 21: Poisonous Scorpion

Out from the corner walked a gaunt man with an easily forgettable face that served no indication of his age. No one had any idea of how long he had been there, having unable to detect his presence at all.

The man in red frowned. He had no idea why, but when he looked at this plain man with nothing striking about him, there was a shuddering feeling that crawled up his spine and raised the hair at the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but change his posture the closer the other man got, unblinking eyes never leaving him.

He asked again, cautiously. “Who are you?”

On instinct, Zhou Zishu was about to told him “Just a nobody” like he did to Gu Xiang; but when he looked down and saw the bruise on Zhang Chengling’s neck, he thought, I’ve played pretend in the palace for over half of my life, why do I have to be polite to these amateurs?

The vagabond’s uncouth behaviors in him had been repressed for way too long. He cast a cursory glance at the men, including the man in red – who had all became tenser – and laughed. “What makes you think I have to answer you?”

The man’s eyes twitched, hands retracted under his sleeves. Apart from his birthmark whose color seemed to have become a darker shade of red, were anyone to see his hands at that moment, they would discover a layer of black smoke appearing over the skin.

The men standing beside him involuntarily spread out. After signaling each other with their eyes, they formed a circle around Zhou Zishu and Zhang Chengling.

Zhou Zishu paid no attention to them, bending down to pull at Zhang Chengling’s collar and picking him up from the ground. “Stand up, kid, don’t lower your head like that.”

Zhang Chengling stared at him blankly, still confused since Zhou Zishu was wearing an additional layer of disguise.

The man in red was patient still. “We just want to ask the child something, my friend, don’t-”

Stick your nose in other people’s business was what he was about to continue with but was unable to, because Zhou Zishu had already set about with electric speed. He gripped the neck of the one who lured Zhang Chengling here in the exact same way the man in red did to the young boy.

The man spluttered, frightened; his martial art skills were not at all incompetent, but this malnourished-looking man moved in a way that was almost ghostlike, and his most vulnerable body part was at the man’s mercy before he even had a chance to evade.

Even a new martial art practitioner would know that the neck and chest were the most vulnerable parts on the body and had to be looked out for with utmost vigilance; those are the places that one would protect unconsciously. A person who dared aim for another’s neck was either very unseasoned or very confident in their ability.

Zhou Zishu’s lips curled without a single hint of real mirth. “Am I your grandpa?”

The man in his grip was initially startled, then enraged; he started to yell without taking his current situation into account. “You…”

But that was all he could utter as Zhou Zishu strengthened his hold and turned his vulgar words into hoarse cries. During the panic, he lifted his arm to hit Zhou Zishu’s chest, but it was dislocated before he could see the man make a move. There was only a wretched distorting scream heard between them.

Zhou Zishu drawled. “Answer me. Am. I. Your. Grandpa?”

The man in red asked angrily. “What do you want?”

Zhou Zishu turned his attention to him and smiled cruelly. “Just some trivial matters that need this bastard’s cooperation. Don’t poke your nose in other people’s business.”

Veins throbbed on the back of his palm, and the man convulsed a little before turning still with his eyes rolled back, not even a scream being let out. It was unclear whether he was dead or not.

Zhou Zishu loosened his grip, and the man slid to the ground almost boneless.

At the same time, two more charged towards them – one targeting the barely-managing-to-stand-firmly Zhang Chengling, one targeting Zhou Zishu with a hook in his hand that smelled of rotten meat. He didn’t bother to dodge and instead kicked at the attacker square in the chest at a mind-boggling angle. The strength from that kick made the man spit out blood while he flew backwards to conveniently hit Zhang Chengling’s sneak attacker, causing both of them to fall like bottle gourds.

Zhou Zishu frowned, picking Zhang Chengling up by the neck with distaste. He threw the boy aside like a small kitten and said impatiently, “Wait here, little nuisance, and don’t move.”

Zhang Chengling felt like his body was as light as a feather when he was picked up and thrown. His eyes widened for a brief second as he mouthed silently, “Shifu…”

Other men continued attacking Zhou Zishu while the man in red remained still.

Zhang Chengling didn’t even dare to blink at the sight in front of him. He remembered his father’s words back when he was little, that martial arts had many different paths and styles to pursue – some steady and unflinching, some incredibly sharp and impenetrable, some fast and rushed like a storm. But all of those above involved visible techniques, and the most magnificent one would have to be when one couldn’t see, sense or hear it, completely indescribable and featureless like the rain in spring at first glance – he summed it up as “quick like startled birds, making light work of the most burdensome.”

At that moment, he finally understood what it was like to be “making light work of the most burdensome.”

Each of those men carried an identical hook that looked like a scorpion’s tail when one examined closely. The hooks were glowing faint blue and carried a demonic aura. Zhang Chengling had yet to know that these people were the infamous “Poisonous Scorpion”, a band specializing in murder and thievery. They would do any disgusting and despicable things imaginable for money.

However, right now they were a complete mess. Zhou Zishu seemed to be barely moving around, his gait almost too lazy. He was empty-handed and his body moved in such a flexible way that made him look completely devoid of bones, but none of the attackers could land a finger on his clothes. Only when one touched him did they realize how truly dangerous he was.

After a while, Zhang Chengling’s head spun with dizziness.

Just under an hour, thirteen Scorpions were knocked out.

Zhang Chengling was incredibly invigorated at this sight, his fist clenched tightly. Zhou Zishu gently dusted off his robes, standing opposite the man in red and examining him for a good while. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowed. “With that birthmark on your face and that famous “demon hand”, surely you must be the messenger of bad luck, Sun Ding the Delighted Mourning Ghost?”

The man’s expression shifted.

Zhou Zishu smiled coldly. “The Ghost Valley had its rules and regulations, once you’ve become a Ghost you cannot leave except for certain times. What nerves you have to come to Dong Ting to attack someone in plain sight.”

The man in red spoke through clenched teeth. “You talk too much.” He became a flurry of red that exuded a smell that was a combination of the smell of fish and rotten corpses, his charge attack barely visible to the eye.

Zhou Zishu immediately flew back a few feet.

The man didn’t land a hit, but Zhang Chengling could see very clearly – on the ground where Zhou Zishu was standing moments ago was a deep mark in the shape of a hand, and the fluttering blades of grass around it all withered at an incredible speed. The boy looked up in astonishment; so this man really was Sun Ding the delighted Mourning Ghost!

Mu Yunge and Fang Buzhi’s murderer!

Zhou Zishu broke a branch in passing, and with a shout, he pierced it into the space between the Ghost’s hands. The branch quickly shriveled up; but Zhou Zishu, still expressionless, pressed further. There seemed to be an influx of vitality poured into the branch, making it more flexible. The Delighted Mourning Ghost felt like it was almost a living being and carried an adherent force.

Alarmed, he took a few steps backwards but Zhou Zishu’s pressure had almost reached his abdomen. He struggled to tumble away and regain his footing, face ghastly pale. Zhou Zishu threw the tree branch aside when the deadly energy was about to spread to his hand. He fixed his sleeves and stood there grimly.

The Ghost, in a show of exceptional pragmatism, immediately disappeared without hesitation once he touched the ground.

Zhang Chengling shouted, “He’s trying to run!”

Zhou Zishu looked at him, then turned and walked away uncaringly. Zhang Chengling rushed to him and cried, “Shifu!”

Zhou Zishu halted, brows knitted, “Who’s your shifu?”

Zhang Chengling followed him regardless, tugging at his arms and looking up at him. “I just know that it’s you, my Uncle Zhou who saved me, my shifu.”

Who else would speak with this mildly irritated voice while talking to him? Who else would have these bony but warm hands? Who else would have this strange, ghostlike style of fighting? Who else in that crowd would follow him here and rescue him?

Zhang Chengling was unflinching in his judgement. Zhou Zishu wasn’t expecting to trick people for long anyway, but he was still disappointed that the brat saw through him. “You…” He tried to get rid of this tail in the most tactful way possible.

His eyes suddenly turned cold before he could finish the sentence, one hand tugging Zhang Chengling closer to his chest and body quickly moving aside. Zhang Chengling had no time to react, he could only feel a rush of wind brushing them and the arms holding him stiffening. Zhou Zishu’s voice was icy. “Death-seeking bastard!”

The attacker’s neck was broken in one movement before he had the chance to jump at them.

When Zhang Chengling took a closer look, he saw that this man was the first one Zhou Zishu knocked out; who could have imagined that he was only faking his death earlier.

The boy was thrown aside once more. Zhou Zishu walked away without a word, but there was no way Zhang Chengling was going to let him leave again, so he followed the man unabashedly.

However, he quickly grew dizzy as the man was nowhere to be seen. Zhang Chengling knew that it would take decades for him to catch up with the elder’s qinggong skills; he was on the verge of tearing up, miserably calling after him, “Shifu…”

At that moment, he heard a faint laugh, and a man dressed in gray appeared from thin air, stopping Zhou Zishu in his track and wrapping his arms around Zhou Zishu’s waist in a clearly calculated fashion.

Zhou Zishu had no idea why his body was stopped in midair and before he could realize, he was already in the other man’s embrace.

Then he heard the familiar, most annoying voice on Earth, “Why the rush, my Saint Master Zhou?”

When they touched the ground, Zhou Zishu cried out and clutched at his right arm. Wen Kexing removed his sleeve without a second thought, intentionally tearing it at a certain angle. Then he immediately frowned – there were two tiny wounds on Zhou Zishu’s arm, like he was bitten by insects.

“No wonder why you ran so quickly, turns out the Scorpion did bite you.”

Zhang Chengling had a sudden revelation. He looked back at their now dead attacker, face turning white.

Wen Kexing stopped Zhou Zishu from talking and made quick work blocking the flow between his meridians. “Shut up.”

He took out a magnet and carefully removed the two hair-thin needles buried in the other’s skin. Then he bent down, putting his mouth to the wound to extract the poison from Zhou Zishu’s blood without a care.

As soon as that happened, Zhou Zishu became stiff as a board.

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