Chapter Sixty-Eight: Shazuo of Flowers and Books
The bookseller, Sazo, seemed to twitch, his stiff features contorting for a moment.
Slap!
Seeing that he still hadn’t gained full consciousness, you delivered another smack.
His dull, lifeless eyes rolled slightly. After a long pause, he spoke in a feeble voice:
“Cold.”
Chen Qi exhaled in relief.
That’s more like it. After being dug out from the snow, saying you’re cold is the normal reaction—what’s with all the laughing?
He hadn’t gone mad, nor was he dead. That was something to be grateful for.
You studied this thinly-clad young man: tangled blue curls, his body etched with script, covered in wounds, both hands tightly shackled by black manacles.
This criminal, the bookseller, wasn’t of a high level. It was possible to view his stats.
View stats.
Bookseller – Sazo
Level: 11 (severely injured, further restricted by shackles)
Aspect: Floral Tome (you recall this person’s aspect being somewhat deranged)
Status: Severely cold
Health: 5/36
Strength: 8
Agility: 16
Inspiration: 98
Spirit: 0 (spiritual energy flow sealed)
Description: Once a young bookseller from District 9 of New City, a prodigy of the Book Aspect, renowned for his knowledge—qualified even to attempt the test for Book Recorders. But with his family’s decline, he turned to translating and selling forbidden tomes, was captured, and lost everything.
Chen Qi’s gaze swept swiftly over the stats.
Inspiration: 98!
That was remarkably high. In the New Sun game, most enhancement items couldn’t be used more than once, and raising Inspiration was no easy feat.
Severely cold, dangerously low health.
In the next instant, right before his eyes, Sazo’s health dropped from 5 to 4.
Don’t tell me he’s going to freeze to death right in front of me…
If he died now, this entire journey would be for nothing.
You saw the shadow of death in his eyes.
He’s succumbing to the cold—do you wish to use a Fiery Potion to save him?
Yes.
Chen Qi immediately made his choice.
Stay alive for me, at least for now.
You retrieved a Fiery Potion from the leather pouch, twisted off the steaming cap, pried open Sazo’s mouth, and poured the liquid down his throat.
The scalding potion flowed down, spreading warmth through Sazo’s entire body.
Chen Qi glanced at his stats again—his severely cold status was gradually lifting, and his health had stopped dropping.
You observed him carefully. He needed rest and proper warmth.
It wasn’t the time to act rashly; he’d have to wait until Sazo recovered before taking further steps.
A prompt appeared.
Do you wish to find shelter from the wind, light a fire, and create a temporary dwelling?
Let’s hope this man has the skill to translate the Book of the Black Prison.
For even the faintest hope of deciphering that forbidden tome, Chen Qi had to do everything in his power to save him.
Yes.
The Shadowlight Fox sniffed at the bookseller, then leapt back to your shoulder.
You called over the little donkey and gently placed the weakened Sazo on its back.
With the fox’s giant form no longer active, only the little donkey could help transport people and supplies.
Chen Qi had to admit, in this blizzard, the little donkey was unexpectedly handy.
Realizing it was finally useful, the donkey was elated, snorting hot breath, bracing itself against the wind and snow, and following you with renewed purpose.
You began searching for a spot to make a fire…
In the distance, you spotted a broken tree reaching a hundred meters high. Beneath it was a hollow, sheltered enough to withstand the blizzard.
Gripping the Debt Collector’s blade, you made sure the hollow was safe, then chopped some branches, produced your fire crossbow, and sparked a blaze.
Fwoosh!
The campfire sprang to life, casting a warm, golden light.
The Shadowlight Fox and little donkey huddled closer to the flames, basking in the warmth.
The fire’s heat made you exhale a breath of chill, your own body gradually warming.
The biting cold left you weary; you drew your blade close, curling up beside the fox and the donkey.
In the fire’s comforting glow, you closed your eyes, entering a state of guarded rest to recover your strength…
Snow fell outside. Inside, Chen Qi turned on the air conditioner—no more wandering the city like before; better preparations were needed.
…
Stare!
You gripped your blade—you seemed to hear someone muttering in their sleep!
You snapped your eyes open. Sazo, the battered bookseller, was lying on the ground, gazing at you in exhaustion.
Chen Qi checked the stats—thanks to the Fiery Potion and the campfire, Sazo’s severe cold had subsided.
Sazo’s eyes fixed on the blade at your side, studying you intently.
“Thank you for saving me, benefactor. Allow me a look—a Night Watcher’s aura, and the scent of the Herb Garden, and I think I see script upon you. You’ve been through much lately—a story of a small soul on the rise.”
What on earth… Chen Qi smacked his lips. This really was an oddball.
Your blade at your waist quivered restlessly.
Sazo shrank back, raising his shackled hands.
“Sorry, sorry, it just slipped out—a strange little habit of mine. I like to see the stories written in the lives of those before me, to hear those dull yet curious tales. Benefactor, I never used to be like this—it’s just, too long in those prison cells, and the habit formed.”
He lowered himself submissively, making no attempt to hide his eccentricity.
Definitely an odd one—and quite the chatterbox…
Chen Qi leaned back. He could accept the stranger’s quirks.
Come to think of it, the Flower Witch, a master apothecary, was also rather peculiar.
You gripped your blade and asked about his condition, urgently wishing to know about the Book of the Black Prison.
“Not too bad, benefactor. You could turn me in to the Prison Hunters or someone else. Finding me alive, a walking sack of gold, before I died—that’s luck for you.”
He knew, given his abilities, as long as he survived, there was no escaping the Prison Hunters. Better to be caught sooner than later.
You’d saved him. He assured you he had no intention of fleeing, and would obediently accompany you to claim the reward.
But before that, he hoped you’d share some stories of your own, for you might be the last person to tell him a tale in this life.
“The blizzard still rages outside, friend—why not talk a while? Even those of the Lamp Aspect cannot always be on the move, nor the Debt Collector’s blade, isn’t that so?”
Sazo gazed at the snow, his eyes complex.
He could discern your aspect and your blade.
Chen Qi propped up his chin. NPCs in the game didn’t have stat panels—this meant Sazo’s powers of observation were keen.
That was no bad thing. The man had talent; his knowledge was broad. He might just be capable of translating the Book of the Black Prison.
A spark flashed in your eyes as you studied him—his learning surpassed your own.
Please make your choice.
1. Gently agree, spin a story, and use it to bring up the matter of the forbidden book.
2. Draw your blade and directly threaten him to translate the Book of the Black Prison.
This eccentric didn’t seem the type to fear death.
Chen Qi thought a moment, then chose the first option.
You embellished your tale and regaled him with your story.
The Shadowlight Fox, toasting itself by the fire, pricked up its long ears, listening alongside Sazo as you wove your narrative.
By the fireside, you spun your tale…
A while later, both the fox and Sazo stared at you, mouths agape in astonishment.
“As expected, everyone’s story is unique. To think you could run errands for the Debt Collector, win the favor of the Flower Witch, and stumble upon such a fine blade. I must admit, benefactor, you are both lucky and capable.”
The Debt Collector let out a warm breath.
“Alas, time is short, benefactor—the storm outside is abating. I see a hint of greed in your eyes; I wonder how much Black River Prison is offering for this broken man—may it be at least five White Day coins.”
“Benefactor, from what I know, this snow is no ordinary fall—out there, there are creatures far more terrifying than the great stag. For your own safety, you may as well turn me in; I can still weather this blizzard.”
So direct…
Chen Qi thought Sazo was even more anxious than he was. Still, the reward paled beside his ability to translate.
Do you wish to ask if he can translate the forbidden tome?
Yes.
You gripped your blade. After confirming there were no tracks outside the hollow, the wind and snow lashing your face, you slowly turned back and asked if Sazo could help you translate a certain black forbidden book.
Sazo froze.
(End of chapter)