He Smells Good

Chapter XXIII

A trail of crimson red blood was left and seemingly endless pangs of pain tore through his body as he walked. It was as though every single bone he had was snapped in half. If it wasn't for his desire to escape, the ache wouldn't even allow him to lift a single finger. The fresh, cold liquid stringing along his bruised arm would cause him to shiver from time to time from the fright of getting caught. He'd flinch each time his arm bumps into someone else's in the crowd.

What's more, he had involved two innocent children in this mess; grabbing his chance to escape almost immediately once it was laid out in front of him, ignoring whatever he had left behind and whoever was affected, that was how desperate he was to escape. In spite of that, he still had his conscience. Guilt and shame have been tugging on his heart since then.

He remembered the two to be strong and capable-looking young boys armed with their swords but that doesn't change the fact that they were still children. Not to mention, it was Xue Yang they were against.

Xiao XingChen himself has experienced his 'prowess' from those duels they used to entertain themselves with. And it really isn't something he should look down upon. Not because he was extremely skilled but because he was a sly fox who would rely on dirty tricks to win.

Whether he or his opponent would end up injured at the end, the only thing he cared about was winning. It didn't matter to him even if it was against the rules or if he lost for violating one.

"A brainless walking corpse would never agree to a fair fight nor will they even be able to," was what he'd always reason.

He rushed to the nearest store to his left, half of his face hooded by the shadow of his cloak so only his pale, trembling lips could be seen. Without giving the vendor a chance to voice out her concern, he spoke in his raspy voice, his tone sounding weak and tired, "Two people . . . children—around the ages fifteen or younger . . . are being bullied by a suspicious group of people somewhere along the lake. Please help, I—I'm in a hurry right now."

Xiao XingChen spotted patrolling guards coming his way from the corner of his eyes. He tugged on the hood over his head with trembling fingers and exchanged eye contact with the vendor once more before bowing down in a hurry. He fastened his pace, soon blending himself in with the crowd.

The vendor was shocked speechless. She stood there still unable to process the words of the odd man as she stared at the increasing throng growing more disorderly and unsettled. She wasn't sure if whether the man was being serious or if he was just one of those demented adolescents she'd stumble on.

Just then, a group of young men draped in robes either white or purple in color walked in, stirring up more commotion and noisy bystanders who couldn't help but want to stick their noses in every drama possible.

The vendor recognized their clothes to be cultivators of one of the few famous sects their young master had invited for she had caught a glimpse of them when they passed through the same path earlier. They had distressed expressions, anxiously looking around while one would stop at a shop and chat with the vendor.

Given that they weren't that far from her shop, she could hear the content of their conversation.

One disciple was assigned to go talk to the vendor. After a good minute of exchanging a few words and shakes of the head, he returned to the group with the same gloomy expression. He stared at them and shook his head in dismay with a sigh.

Jiang WanYin restlessly looked around him, the tears clinging on the corner of his eyes now threatening to fall. He scratched his head and slid his hand across his face down to his hips, discreetly wiping away his tears with the action. He pinched the skin between his thumb and index finger to calm and compose himself. No matter how much he tried to hide it, his fellow sect brothers could see how much he was so ill at ease.