Chapter 33
Chapter 33
Ming Zhuang summoned a physician. As the man bandaged Ning Wang, Ming Zhuang drawled lazily from the side, “Use a bit more force.”
“Doctor, this little brother isn’t afraid of pain. Look at how much blood he’s losing; it’s practically free.”
“He smashed so many of my expensive plates and even forced me to hire a physician. It’s only right that he suffers a little.”
When Ming Zhuang wasn’t speaking, his eyes held a hint of cold indifference. Once he opened his mouth, he became even more caustic.
Ning Wang merely twitched the corner of his eye and pressed his lips thin as the physician worked, looking every bit the part of someone who was in pain but stoically enduring it.
As the physician moved, Ning Wang would occasionally suck in a sharp breath of cold air.
“…” Ming Zhuang slowly fell silent.
In a spot where Ming Zhuang couldn’t see, Ning Wang couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth curl upward.
…
When the physician was leaving, he looked at Ning Wang, hesitating as if he wanted to say something.
Ming Zhuang said calmly, “It’s fine. Speak plainly.”
The physician complied. “Field Master, if you do not begin to nurse your health, I fear your days are numbered.”
Ning Wang looked at Ming Zhuang’s unnaturally pale skin and thought to himself that a sickly person in the Script was still a sickly person.
Ming Zhuang said, “I already have a lead on that herb. I will set out in person tomorrow.”
The physician frowned. “Your body…”
Ming Zhuang interrupted, “If I don’t go myself, I’m afraid the only one of its kind in this world will end up in someone else’s pocket.”
After the physician left, Ning Wang was tidying up when Ming Zhuang suddenly asked him, “If I take you out with me, will you try to sneak away?”
Ning Wang didn’t even look up. “No.”
Ming Zhuang chuckled. “I don’t know why, but I actually find your words quite believable.”
“Oh. Actually, I’m planning to kill you and escape out in the open.”
“…” Ming Zhuang’s face went cold. “That part isn’t believable.”
…
The next day, Ming Zhuang took Ning Wang out.
Ning Wang pointed at the convoy of men and horses following them. “With this many people, you’re still worried I’ll run?”
Ming Zhuang snorted. “Hmph.”
Fine, he really could escape if he wanted to.
Ming Zhuang knew that Ning Wang shared the same Martial Arts Style as him. Having tested the level of his skills, Ming Zhuang knew it was perfectly normal for Ning Wang to be able to get away.
However, the martial arts of the guards in this convoy were certainly not low.
Ning Wang observed them for a moment. “Assassins?”
“I didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Oh, I also keep an assassin organization around for fun.”
Incredible. This sickly man’s energy was surprisingly robust for someone on the verge of death. Not only did he run a Beast Arena that trained Prisoner Slaves for high-ranking officials and nobles, but he had also secretly handpicked a group of promising talents to train as assassins, forcing them to risk their lives for his Shadow Pavilion.
Ning Wang asked, “Is the name Shadow Pavilion meant literally?” As in, a secret assassination organization?
Ming Zhuang replied calmly, “No. It’s to maintain the organization’s sense of dark mystery.”
“Stop pretending.”
“I’m serious.”
“Keep pretending.”
“…” Ming Zhuang felt a second wave of frustration mixed with persistent surprise. “It’s truly strange. Why do you always seem to understand me so well?”
Ning Wang shrugged. “I told you, I’m your brother.”
Ming Zhuang looked at him again with that pitying gaze reserved for a Devoted Lover, though this time it was tinged with doubt.
Thinking of Ming Zhuang’s inexplicable sense of trust in him, Ning Wang understood what that doubt meant.
Ming Zhuang could tell he wasn’t lying, but he couldn’t understand why he had his own memories from childhood yet a completely foreign name and a “brother” had suddenly appeared.
From that perspective, it could only be that this kid had mistaken him for someone else.
Ning Wang changed the subject. “You still haven’t said what you’re looking for.”
“A medicinal herb.”
“…” Ning Wang pressed, “What herb specifically?”
Ming Zhuang lay lazily in the small nest Ning Wang had prepared, looking drowsy. “Vermilion Jade Grass… You don’t know what it looks like, so telling you is of no use.”
To be honest, it was surprisingly comfortable.
An incense burner had been lit inside the carriage, emitting a pleasant medicinal fragrance that had a calming effect on the mind.
Ming Zhuang closed his eyes to sleep, appearing completely defenseless.
Ning Wang slowly leaned closer.
Ming Zhuang focused his mind without showing it, but suddenly felt a wave of warmth over his body.
Ning Wang had draped a heavy cloak over him.
His guard dropped completely, and Ming Zhuang fell into a deep sleep amidst the drifting medicinal scent.
Though the carriage swayed, the driver kept it exceptionally steady. Coupled with the soft, warm nest Ning Wang had prepared, Ming Zhuang rested well throughout the journey-until he was suddenly jolted awake by several overlapping voices.
Ming Zhuang heard one of his subordinates say, “Young Master Xie, the Beast Arena spotted this Vermilion Jade Grass first. First come, first served; it should belong to our Beast Arena.”
Ming Zhuang was now fully awake.
Ning Wang was no longer inside the carriage; he was likely part of the confrontation outside.
Ming Zhuang pulled his cloak tighter and lifted the carriage curtain.
Frost and snow filled the sky. Winter in the frontier was truly a beautiful sight.
It was nothing like the capital, where one could hardly catch a glimpse of snow.
Seeing him emerge from the carriage, Xie Ning leaned lazily against his own carriage, clutching a hand warmer. “Master Ming, we arrived in Saibei one after the other. As for whose hands this Vermilion Jade Grass will fall into, let’s let our skills decide.”
Ning Wang observed closely and noticed that Xie Ning also looked quite sickly.
The Script had done a good job with this imitation; Xie Ning’s demeanor, name, and personality were exactly the same as Ning Shuo’s.
Oh, and he even had that sickly constitution.
Ning Shuo wouldn’t use his Word Spirit ability recklessly, so Ning Wang wasn’t worried about that.
He was worried about something else-
Before his thoughts could settle, Ning Wang suddenly felt a familiar sense of eeriness creeping in.
He had experienced this sensation many times along the way.
For instance, the patterns on the carriage would suddenly start moving. Ning Wang would ignore it and fiddle with the incense burner; after a while, the dense, moving wood grain-which looked as if it would crawl onto him at any second-would return to normal.
Or, for example, a scratching sound would suddenly come from beneath his perfectly fine seat cushion, sounding like countless rats running and gnawing. Ning Wang would naturally tuck the cloak around Ming Zhuang, and after a moment, the scratching would stop and the feeling of disgust would fade.
There were many such occurrences, but Ning Wang couldn’t exactly go outside to drive the carriage.
His current identity was that of a Prisoner Slave. The brief display of skill he’d shown at the Beast Arena-which was far beyond his usual level-was already enough to be considered OOC. If he were to defy Ming Zhuang’s order to “wait upon him” and leave the carriage without permission, the other guard NPCs would probably tear him apart.
Although Ning Wang had already killed many NPCs, his goal for this trip was to take Ning Shuo away. To avoid unnecessary trouble, he had endured the nausea throughout the journey. It wasn’t until the carriage unexpectedly crossed paths with the Xie Manor’s party that he used the opportunity to step outside.
And now, that disgusting sense of eeriness had returned.
Many guards were staring at Ning Wang, including those from Ming Zhuang’s side.
Xie Ning’s personal guard had a strange expression. “You must be that Prisoner Slave the Field Master redeemed from the Beast Arena, right? Even if you were redeemed, you’re still on the Slave Registry. Why aren’t you kneeling before Young Master Xie?”
Before Ning Wang could react, a hand rested on his shoulder.
He turned his head to look.
Though the hand was pale, the joints were well-defined and the fingers were long and slender. At first glance, one might think they were the hands of a musician, but a closer look revealed thin calluses on the fingertips.
Ming Zhuang said with a faint smile, “I don’t believe I need to broadcast the fact that I’ve removed him from the Slave Registry to everyone. On the other hand, you, little guard-you look quite young, you must have been bought recently. I don’t recall anyone so young having their name removed from the Slave Registry lately. Since you are still on the registry, why aren’t you kneeling before this Field Master?”