Chapter 23: Roaming the World with Sword in Hand (Part Four)

Several days passed, and Wu Yueling had no choice but to wade into the water to catch fish, taking the opportunity to wash herself as well. The river was icy cold and intolerable; after a short time, she scrambled ashore to warm herself by the fire. The nearby game had all been hunted, and even fish were hard to come by—Wu Yueling realized they would have to move on soon.

She glanced at Hua Chuer, who was now able to sit up and was playing with the little lynx. Whether she could walk remained uncertain. After changing into clean clothes, Wu Yueling sat to continue steaming her hair dry.

“We need to find a new place. If we stay here any longer, we’ll starve to death,” Wu Yueling said, tying up her now-dry hair. If the weather hadn’t warmed, she wouldn’t have dared to go fishing, let alone bathe.

“Mistress, when do you plan for us to set out?” Hua Chuer asked, releasing the lynx and smiling.

Their days together had been harmonious, and Hua Chuer had started to call Wu Yueling ‘Mistress,’ accepting her role as maid.

“Do you think your body can handle the journey?” Wu Yueling asked with concern.

“Mistress, have you forgotten? I am a Grandmaster. As long as I muster my strength, walking a few miles won’t be a problem.”

At her answer, Wu Yueling lowered her head in thought. “If we were at a hospital, your wound would be stitched up; you wouldn’t have to worry about it reopening when you moved. Too bad I didn’t bring a needle when I left. I wonder if letting it heal naturally will have any adverse effects.”

“What was that?” Hua Chuer asked, puzzled by Wu Yueling’s muttering.

“I was saying, your wound is healing awfully fast. Won’t there be side effects?” Wu Yueling inserted her hairpin and looked up.

“There will, of course. I’ll have two more scars on my body. Actually, if I gather some herbs I know and grind them into a paste, the wounds would heal even faster,” Hua Chuer replied, pouting a little, especially at the thought of scarring. But she quickly recovered her spirits. “This herbal formula can erase scars, and if I use my internal energy to speed up circulation at the injury site, it heals quickly. Otherwise, I’d have died long ago from sword and knife wounds.”

“Is that so? Where do you find those herbs? What’s the recipe?” Wu Yueling asked, intrigued that such miraculous herbal formulas existed in this world.

“I remember you have brush, ink, and paper, Mistress. I’ll just write it down. It’s a secret of my sect, but since I’m your servant now, there’s no need to hide it.” Hua Chuer tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“By the way, how did you end up provoking Sky Leopard Manor? Do you have a grudge, or did you just want to steal from them?” Wu Yueling rose to fetch a brush from her pack. The horse neighed restlessly, a little agitated; she stroked its head to soothe it.

“It was for the Luminous Pearl—the Manor’s famed heirloom. As a professional thief, I couldn’t pass up such a treasure. Who would have thought those people guarded it like their lives, setting up nearly a hundred traps and all sorts of hidden crossbows? My wound came from one such trap. Luckily, those three idiots didn’t poison the bolt, or I’d be dead,” Hua Chuer said indignantly, accepting the brush and paper and continuing, “They set almost a hundred traps for a single treasure, and hidden crossbows everywhere. The arrow to my waist was from one of those, but at least it wasn’t poisoned.”

She finished writing and handed the paper to Wu Yueling. “Don’t mind the handwriting.”

Wu Yueling looked at the chicken-scratch characters, her face full of disdain. “Your handwriting is atrocious…”

“I told you not to mind! I dislike writing, dislike reading poetry, and have no interest in those scholars who do nothing but compose verses and paint. Unless, of course, it’s an original work by a famous master—I’d gladly accept that.”

Wu Yueling didn’t understand. “Why would you want that if you dislike such things?”

“Because they’re worth money,” Hua Chuer answered, leaving Wu Yueling speechless. This girl had money on her mind above all else.

Wu Yueling read over the list of herbs but didn’t recognize a single one. She waved the paper at Hua Chuer. “Not a single one looks familiar.”

Hua Chuer sighed, helpless. She explained that most people wouldn’t recognize the herbs, which was why she hadn’t mentioned them before. Wu Yueling then asked if she wanted revenge. Hua Chuer hesitated—for by the code of the underworld, one shouldn’t bear grudges. After all, she was the thief and had failed, nearly losing her life; she could only blame her own lack of skill. Wu Yueling stated outright that if it were her, she’d definitely seek revenge. Hua Chuer replied that she was now her servant for life, so she’d follow wherever Wu Yueling went—revenge would have to wait, since it was Wu Yueling who’d saved her life.

After packing up, they set off.

Wu Yueling led the horse, while Hua Chuer rode, following the river downstream. Soon they entered a forest, occasionally picking herbs along the way.

“Haha, how can it be that the mistress is leading the horse while the servant rides? Don’t you think so, little kitty?” Hua Chuer teased, tickling the lynx perched on the horse’s head.

“If you weren’t injured, you wouldn’t be getting a ride. By the way, where did you learn your skills?” Wu Yueling asked, leaving the riverbank for the woods.

“Hundred Flowers Valley. But my master passed away long ago,” Hua Chuer replied lightly, without a trace of nostalgia.

“With such skills, why turn to thievery?”

“My master was a thief. What else should a disciple do? Work at a brothel, singing and dancing for men? Not a chance. Men are all faithless turnips,” Hua Chuer said, shaking her head in disdain.

“You’re right—men are such pigs,” Wu Yueling agreed, though she didn’t entirely believe that all men were unfaithful. After all, she’d been a man in her previous life—albeit a single one, not a faithless turnip. Still, she played along.

“Pigs?”

“Yeah, cooked with star anise, cinnamon, and beer…well, braised pig’s trotter, anyway,” Wu Yueling replied, switching to a more plausible explanation since there were no pressure cookers here.

“That’s actually a fitting metaphor! When we reach Xiang County, I’ll eat a big bowl of pork and drink a jar of wine. There’s nothing to eat out here but lousy food—can’t wait to get back to town,” Hua Chuer said, visibly longing for city delicacies.

Her words made Wu Yueling’s mouth water as well. “Out here, anything edible is a blessing. Let’s catch a few pheasants later to treat ourselves.”

“Since I woke, I’ve only eaten fish. Did you eat all the game around here?” Hua Chuer asked.

Suddenly, the horse neighed and stopped, refusing to move forward no matter how Wu Yueling pulled, even shedding tears.

“Of course I ate it all. What’s wrong? Why won’t the horse move?” Wu Yueling turned, about to tease her servant’s privileged position, but instead saw the horse crying—this horse, a gift from the chief escort, was an old hand from the escort agency. “Why is it crying…”

Hua Chuer leaned forward to check. Sure enough, the horse was shedding tears.

“Maybe sand got in its eyes…” she offered, uncertain.

Wu Yueling patted the horse, puzzled. Why was it reluctant to move? They paused to let it graze and rest, hoping it would recover its spirit before they continued.

The little lynx returned to Wu Yueling’s arms, perhaps preferring her warmth in the chill of the forest.

“Mistress, your little cat is so lively and clever,” Hua Chuer remarked.

“I picked her up on a snowy day—she was starving and freezing to death, just like I found you.”

The lynx poked its head out and meowed, as if to ask, “Are you talking about me?” Wu Yueling stroked its head, letting it burrow into her clothes for warmth.

“Fighting two hundred people and escaping is already impressive,” Hua Chuer said, trying to bolster her pride.

“Wait…do you hear that?” Wu Yueling prepared to retort but was distracted by a rustling from the undergrowth.

“Yes. It’s moving fast—approaching us. It doesn’t sound human; four footprints. Could it be a big cat?” Hua Chuer said, growing serious.

“Get off the horse—something’s wrong.” Wu Yueling tensed, quickly helping Hua Chuer down and handing her the lynx.

The lynx, sensing danger, shed its usual playfulness and bared its teeth at the direction of the noise.

“Mistress, be careful. If things go badly, you can leave me behind…”

Wu Yueling clamped a hand over Hua Chuer’s mouth, took out her whirlwind AK from the warehouse, and pressed Hua Chuer against a tree, standing in front with the rifle ready to shoot.

“Don’t worry—even tigers don’t scare me—”

“Careful!”

“Meowww!”

A black blur shot out of the undergrowth—a gigantic beast lunged, slamming into the old horse and toppling it in an instant. The horse never managed a cry, its legs kicking feebly before it died.

Wu Yueling squeezed the trigger, bullets rattling out. The beast roared, leaped, and vanished into the undergrowth—her shots had only hit its limbs. The creature’s reflexes were incredible. After killing the horse and being attacked, it immediately dove for cover and disappeared.

Wu Yueling looked at the horse. Its neck and chest were gaping, bloody holes—such force! It didn’t look like a tiger; it was all brown—could it be…a bear?

Her hair stood on end. Such a ferocious bear! No wonder this felt like a prehistoric wildlife park. She felt a pang for the horse’s death and suddenly understood why it had refused to go on and had cried—it must have sensed its coming demise. How strange!

“To your side!”

A ferocious roar shook the woods as the huge brown bear burst from the brush, charging straight at Wu Yueling. She spun, intending to shoot, but the bear was nearly three meters tall, already upon her. Her gun spat fire, but the bear swatted it aside, smashing it against a tree. Her shot struck the bear’s other arm.

Wu Yueling’s heart sank as she drew on her internal energy, bracing herself as the bear’s massive paw struck her. The blow only partially deflected, and she was hurled away in agony, her arms throbbing.

Hua Chuer, already injured, stumbled and collapsed, gritting her teeth as she watched the bear. She couldn’t fathom what that strange weapon of Wu Yueling’s was—like a crossbow, but it thundered like lightning.

The lynx let out a pained mewl but, frightened by the giant bear, turned tail and bounded back to Hua Chuer, hopping anxiously.

Blood streamed from the bear’s forelegs where it had been shot. Enraged, it bellowed again, ignoring Hua Chuer and twisting its massive frame to attack Wu Yueling.

Wu Yueling’s arms were numb from the shock. The size of the bear was staggering. Despite her pain, she scrambled up and pulled an M4A1 from her warehouse. The bear charged, a paw sweeping with a sickening stench. Before she could release the safety, she felt a tremendous force as the rifle was swatted away, the sound of it shattering nearby.

Then the bear seized her. Wu Yueling thought it was about to bite her head off. Despair swept her—this was it, surely death. Her neck would be snapped.

But the bear, in its fury, simply lifted her and flung her aside. She tumbled through the air, crashed into a tree, and spat up bitter bile, coughing violently.

Not satisfied, the bear lumbered over, grabbed her again, and hurled her another direction, shaking its shoulders and roaring as if venting its anger on its prey.

Wu Yueling rolled into the dead horse, her blue robe torn in several places and her body scored by the bear’s claws. She’d been badly battered, and her ankle felt dislocated.

She struggled to rise, but the bear charged, paw raised to smash her skull—a blow that would kill her instantly.

At that moment, the horse, which had seemed dead, suddenly lurched up, shoving Wu Yueling aside and using its battered body to block the fatal attack. It collapsed again, this time for good.

Wu Yueling heard a crack—her ankle popped back into place, though it still ached. Stunned by the horse’s sudden revival, she quickly composed herself, pulled a Barrett from the warehouse, flicked off the safety, and squeezed the trigger.

Boom!

The muzzle spat fire. A bullet punched through the bear’s skull, leaving a gaping hole. The bear’s head lolled, its massive body crashing backward in an instant. The recoil knocked Wu Yueling onto her back; she clutched her shoulder, crying out in pain.

Hua Chuer stared, horrified. Had she not been so gravely wounded, she might have fought the beast herself. But now, she could barely stand, much less help the wounded Wu Yueling.

The little lynx rushed to Wu Yueling, licking her face and mewling anxiously.

The evening wind rustled through the forest. The sun had long since dipped behind the mountains, and dusk had fallen. After a long while, Wu Yueling managed to stand, the pain of her wounds burning fiercely. Gritting her teeth, she accepted Hua Chuer’s help and cursed, “What rotten luck!”

“Mistress, you truly are extraordinary—so fearless, you fought that monster head-on,” Hua Chuer said, still pale and shaken, but genuinely in awe of Wu Yueling’s courage.

Wu Yueling wasn’t a grandmaster, more like an ordinary martial artist—perhaps not even second-rate. She had relied on strange and powerful weapons Hua Chuer didn’t recognize, but her bravery in facing the bear had earned Hua Chuer’s respect and made her all the more willing to serve.

“It’s a pity about the horse. I don’t know if it was a thoroughbred, but in all my days, I’ve never seen such a loyal beast. It deserves a monument for saving my life,” Wu Yueling said, steadying herself with Hua Chuer’s support.

“Indeed. I thought you were doomed, but the horse came back from the dead to take the fatal blow for you. My heart was in my throat. If I hadn’t been so badly hurt, I wouldn’t have let you face such danger alone,” Hua Chuer said, blaming herself.

“It’s not your fault. The horse was loyal to the end. No wonder it wouldn’t move and shed tears before—perhaps it sensed its fate,” Wu Yueling sighed as she cleaned her wounds. She then busied herself in the wilderness, burying the horse. By the time she finished, night had fully fallen.

They built a fire in the clearing, roasting bear meat. The mood gradually lightened. The little lynx curled up in Wu Yueling’s arms, clinging tightly as if afraid to lose her again.

After their meal, Wu Yueling felled a tree with her sword, carved a stump, and inscribed words upon it. With brush and ink, she wrote “Loyal and Righteous Horse,” planting the marker atop the grave and bowing in thanks.

After supper, Wu Yueling set up the ‘temporary tent’ for the night. She was utterly exhausted, her wounds stinging fiercely, and both rifles had been destroyed. The forge was still working on the new receiver and couldn’t repair the weapons yet.

Hua Chuer, now barely able to walk, was fascinated by the house conjured from thin air. She circled it, running her hands over the smooth walls. “How do you do this? It’s like magic—utterly incredible.”

“Mistress can do anything, even reach the heavens and the underworld…” Wu Yueling’s voice trailed off as she fell asleep, leaving Hua Chuer to smile and return to the fire, curling up beside Wu Yueling for the night.

So, the two women and the little lynx passed the night by the fire, sleeping under the open sky in the wild forest, quietly recovering as they awaited the sunrise of another day.