A figure stood at the entrance of the dilapidated temple, shrouded in the backlight. He Fangchuan squinted, trying to discern the figure's outline. A dull ache still lingered in his wound, and he subconsciously tensed his body. His fingertips found a sharp piece of gravel behind him—the only weapon he had left.
"Wow, this dilapidated temple could still hide someone?"
The voice was tinged with a hint of teasing. The man stepped into the temple, his face lit by the light, revealing a handsome young man. He wore a clean-cut blue shirt, a wine gourd dangling from his waist. A carefree smile played at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes shone with a startling brilliance, as if they could see through people's hearts.
Enemy? Or just a passing scoundrel?
"Who are you?" he asked in a deep voice, trying not to sound weak.
The green-robed man didn't answer. Instead, he circled around him, as if examining something rare. "The eldest son of the He family? He's more capable than the rumors say."
"Do you know me?"
"Not really... But with the He family's conflagration, it's hard not to know." The green-robed man shrugged, shook the wine gourd at his waist, and his gaze fell on He Fangchuan's wound. "To survive being hunted down by the Immortal Master Han Yan himself, you're incredibly lucky."
Though the words sounded harsh, He Fangchuan remained unmoved. He quickly pondered: This person knew his identity, knew about the He family's extermination, and even knew it was Du Zhaochen who was responsible, yet he showed no hostility towards him. Instead... was he just looking on in a trance?
"Since you know my background, why don't you just state your purpose?" He Fangchuan relaxed and leaned back against the wall. "I can't fight or escape now, and being nervous will only make me lose my momentum." Lin Ziqi's inherent carefree spirit was taking over. If the sky were to fall, he'd first think about whether he could find a fulcrum to hold it up. If he couldn't bear it, lying down and watching the sky and earth collapse would be a unique experience.
The man in green seemed surprised by He Fangchuan's reaction. He raised an eyebrow and said, "Interesting! Anyone else would either burst into tears and beg for revenge, or piss themselves to death with fear. But you act like nothing's happened."
"What? Tears of pain will bring the entire He family back to life? Or will pissing yourself to death with fear make Du Zhaochen sever his meridians?" He Fangchuan twitched his lips in a self-deprecating smirk. "I'd rather save my energy and think about where my next meal is coming from than do all that."
This amused the man in green. "Interesting. My name is Qin Feng. I make a living in the martial arts world. I'm not a good person, nor am I your enemy." He tossed over a small porcelain bottle. "Here, some excellent wound medicine. It's more effective than that rag you're wearing."
He Fangchuan caught the bottle. It felt slightly cool to the touch, and the bottle still had a faint smell of alcohol. He didn't open it immediately. Instead, he turned to look at Qin Feng. "You're sending me pills for no reason. You can't be just mad at me, right?"
"Yeah, not really." Qin Feng took a sip of his wine and smacked his lips. "Well, I have some old grudges against those sanctimonious fellows from Xiuxiu Que. Since I don't like them, I naturally like you, the 'slipped fish,' more." He glanced at He Fangchuan. "Why, are you afraid I'll poison you?"
He Fangchuan weighed the contents before uncorking the bottle, pouring out a few pills, and stuffing them into his mouth. The pills tasted slightly bitter at first, but quickly transformed into a warm current that slid into his stomach, easing the pain from his wounds somewhat.
"It's just a gamble. If you really want to kill me, there's no need to go through so much trouble," he said calmly.
Qin Feng raised his eyebrows even more. "Aren't you afraid I might have other motives? Like... getting some secrets out of you about the He family?"
"The He family's biggest secret is that someone falsely accused them of something and then had their entire family executed." He Fangchuan spoke slowly, but mentally, he was quickly combing through the original owner's memories, checking for anything worth coveting. "If you want to hear that, I can tell you for three days and three nights."
Qin Feng suddenly burst into laughter. "Great! I love dealing with people like you who aren't pretentious!" He walked over to He Fangchuan and sat down. He pulled out an oil-paper package and tossed it over. "Freshly bought hot buns, still warm."
He Fangchuan opened the oil-paper package, and the aroma immediately hit him, causing his stomach to growl. He then remembered that the original owner hadn't eaten properly in three days. He had been so preoccupied with the pain and shock that he hadn't even felt hungry.
He didn't hesitate, picking up a bun and stuffing it into his mouth. He couldn't bear to let go even though it was hot. The original owner was weak and in desperate need of energy, and Lin Ziqi's soul was clamoring for carbohydrates.
Watching him wolf down his food, Qin Feng stopped talking and simply observed him as he drank. The light in the dilapidated temple was dim. The boy's face was pale, his lips chapped, but his eyes, alone, shone with a startling brightness. His expression was clearly one of desperate survival, yet an inexplicable energy emanated from him. He didn't look like a spoiled, pretentious young master, but rather like a weed struggling to break through a crack in the rock, possessing a tenacity.
"What are your plans for the future?"
He Fangchuan swallowed the last bite of his bun and wiped his mouth. "First, stay alive. Find out what 'demonic cult relic' the He family has hidden. Finally... seek an explanation from Du Zhaochen." His eyes suddenly turned cold.
"Demanding justice? That's how you feel?" Qin Feng scoffed. "Do you know where Du Zhaochen is? Do you know how skilled he is? With your current precarious state, you're going to seek justice from him, while you're rushing to serve him food?"
"That's why I have to survive." He Fangchuan wasn't fazed by his words. "Eat your food one bite at a time, and avenge your enemies one step at a time. I'm a rookie now, but that doesn't mean I'll always be one." Lin Ziqi spoke in his usual sarcastic tone, yet his words carried the sharpness of youth.
Qin Feng paused, then laughed. "Rookie? That's a fresh word. But you're right, the road must be taken one step at a time." He pulled a silver ingot from his bosom and placed it on the ground. "Here, take it. Find a place to recuperate. As for Xiuxiu Que, things are going through the roof lately, so it's best you stay out of sight."
He Fangchuan looked at the silver ingot, then at Qin Feng. "What exactly do you want to do?" Lin Ziqi understood the principle of no reward without merit.
"Didn't I tell you I don't like Xiu Xiu Que?" Qin Feng stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes. "By the way... I think you might actually be capable of something. If you ever manage to bring down Du Zhaochen, remember to let me know so I can buy a nice bottle of wine to celebrate."
With that, he turned and headed out the temple gate, his steps as brisk as the wind.
"Hey!"
Qin Feng turned and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Consider this medicine and silver as a loan. I'll pay it back later." He Fangchuan looked at him seriously.
Qin Feng smiled and waved, his figure quickly disappearing into the woods outside the temple, leaving behind only the words, "I'll wait."
Silence returned to the dilapidated temple, leaving only the sound of He Fangchuan's breathing. He stood up and picked up the heavy silver.
"This guy is really strange," He Fangchuan thought, but he couldn't deny that Qin Feng's appearance had solved his urgent problem.
He then carefully put the silver away and took out the bottle of golden medicine, intending to re-treat his wounds. After tearing open the coarse bandage, he looked at the crisscross of scars on his body, his eyes complex.
Lin Ziqi's soul said: Hey, you see, there's always a way out!
But He Fangchuan's memory responded: The world is treacherous, don't trust it.
He smiled, at Lin Ziqi's optimism and He Fangchuan's vigilance. Perhaps, the fusion of these two contrasting souls allowed him, in this desperate situation, to avoid being consumed by hatred or crushed by fear.
The sunlight from the window slowly filtered through the cracks in the dilapidated temple, falling on He Fangchuan's face, a warm glow. Then, in the distance, the sound of Zhongbo's returning footsteps could be heard, cautious and tentative.
He Fangchuan took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing his chaotic thoughts. As for that man named Qin Feng... let's just consider him an unexpected interlude in this awful time travel. After all, the road ahead is long, and who knows, we might run into him again.
He picked up the bone whistle and blew gently. The crisp sound echoed through the dilapidated temple, and soon, Uncle Zhong appeared at the temple gate with a worried look on his face.
"Young Master, are you alright?"
"I'm fine," He Fangchuan smiled, his first genuine smile since crossing over. "Uncle Zhong, we're rich now. Let's go to the nearby town."