Chapter 13: Nursing Wounds

Yun Zhonghe emerged from the mist, his attire as neat and immaculate as before, his expression calm as he stepped into the sight of all present.

As he appeared, a deathly silence fell over the entire assembly.

No one there, no matter how hard they racked their brains, could have imagined this outcome. Yun Zhonghe, after taking head-on that terrifying Dragon Subduing Palm from Guo Jing, was not, as Guo Jing had expected, gravely wounded and on the verge of death. Though his breath was slightly weakened, his vitality remained strong.

“I did not expect Yun Zhonghe to withstand a blow from Guo Jing. In his previous matches with Zhijing and Huo Du, he must have held back some of his strength,” Qiu Chuji muttered under his breath, a hint of shock on his face as he watched Yun Zhonghe.

Yun Zhonghe’s gaze swept over the crowd, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the unconscious Little Dragon Maiden lying on the ground. A trace of worry flashed in his eyes. He hurried over, gathered her into his arms, and upon examining her, found her injuries serious but not life-threatening. Only then did the weight lift from his heart.

He slid an arm beneath her legs, lifted her in his arms, and without any mind to continue entangling with Guo Jing, carried her down the slopes of Mount Zhongnan.

Guo Jing, a true hero, would not easily let Yun Zhonghe escape. He barked, “You won’t leave Mount Zhongnan alive today!”

Yun Zhonghe acted as though he hadn’t heard.

Guo Jing, feeling provoked, was furious. He leapt into the air, his palm surging with inner force, and struck with full might at Yun Zhonghe’s back.

Sensing the terrifying pressure rushing toward him, Yun Zhonghe did not pause, his face remained calm, and he strode forward without a backward glance.

“Brothers, with me!” Qiu Chuji called, charging ahead, and the rest nodded and followed in unison.

Together, the five dissolved the force of Guo Jing’s palm. Qiu Chuji looked at Guo Jing, formed a gesture, and recited a Daoist incantation.

“Let mercy be shown where possible; let this matter rest here today.”

Landing, Guo Jing glared angrily at the Daoists. “Are you not afraid of bringing shame to the Quanzhen Sect by shielding this villain?”

“There’s no point in further words. If you insist on fighting, we old fellows are willing to learn from you!” they replied.

Guo Jing was left speechless by rage, but did not attack again. After all, Quanzhen was a major sect; to tear things apart completely would do no one any good.

“I came today to invite Yang Guo to join the Quanzhen Sect and study martial arts. Now, it seems there’s no need.” He turned to Yang Guo, forcing a smile. “Come, return to Xiangyang with Uncle Guo; I’ll personally teach you martial arts.”

Had Yang Guo heard these words before, he would have been overjoyed. Yet today, for some unknown reason, he felt inexplicably lost.

It was as if, in the shadows, something that rightfully belonged to him had been forcibly taken away.

Yet he could not comprehend the source of this feeling.

Unable to make sense of it, the naturally optimistic Yang Guo cast it from his mind.

He skipped merrily down the mountain with Uncle Guo.

With the spectacle ended, the crowd did not even wait for Qiu Chuji to see them off, but quickly took their leave.

At the base of Mount Zhongnan, within the Tomb of the Living Dead, Yun Zhonghe hurriedly placed the unconscious Little Dragon Maiden on the icy jade bed in a cross-legged position.

He pressed a palm to her back and channeled his inner energy, sending a steady stream into her body.

Her pale face gradually regained its color under the healing power of the jade bed and Yun Zhonghe’s energy. Her weak breath grew steady once more.

But behind her, Yun Zhonghe’s condition was dire. Once he was sure she was out of danger, his face flushed, veins bulged on his forehead, a metallic taste welled up, and blood spurted violently from his mouth.

As the blood left him, his face went deathly pale, and his breath became extremely weak.

Pain radiated through his meridians, contorting his expression and forcing him to gasp for air.

Guo Jing’s inner force was profound; that palm had shaken Yun Zhonghe’s organs. Then, upon returning to the tomb, Yun Zhonghe had ignored his own injuries to heal Little Dragon Maiden, worsening his condition further.

Now, Yun Zhonghe was weaker than ever—so much so that even a three-year-old child could have killed him.

“As long as you’re safe, I’m at ease.”

Looking at Little Dragon Maiden lying on the jade bed, Yun Zhonghe’s consciousness faded, his head slumped to the side, and darkness consumed him.

His consciousness drifted like a lone boat on a stormy sea, tossed endlessly by the waves.

He did not know how long he floated thus.

Suddenly, he sensed a warm current flow from his throat and spread throughout his body.

Like a dying man in the desert, he greedily drank in the rare sweetness.

Gradually, his awareness returned.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and a weary yet still peerless face came into view.

“You’re awake?” Little Dragon Maiden watched as Yun Zhonghe regained consciousness, the worry in her brow melting into a smile.

“Thank you for caring for me all these days.”

Under his gaze, a blush crept across her exquisite face. Her lips, still moist from having just given him water, were irresistibly tempting.

Unable to hold back, he leaned forward and bit her gently.

After a brief moment of panic, Little Dragon Maiden understood, and wrapped her arms around Yun Zhonghe’s head, pulling him down onto the bed.

The softness and her delicate fragrance overwhelmed Yun Zhonghe’s senses, and his body responded swiftly, eager to break all restraint.

Like a starving wolf, he tore frantically at her clothes, exposing swathes of snowy skin to the air.

His breath grew ragged; her face flushed crimson.

In each other’s eyes burned deep love intertwined with desire.

Just as he was about to cross the final line, Little Dragon Maiden regained a sliver of clarity and stopped him. “No, you’re still hurt…”

But before she could finish, Yun Zhonghe sealed her lips with his own.

Soon, only soft, melodious moans could be heard.

In an instant, the air was filled with spring’s warmth.

With actions, Yun Zhonghe proved himself.

“No!”—those words, to a man, are a grave insult.

At length, Yun Zhonghe finally relented, gazing with pride at the woman in his arms.

Little Dragon Maiden, after days without sleep tending to Yun Zhonghe’s unconscious body, was already exhausted. After this fierce bout, she could bear no more and drifted into a deep sleep.

Yun Zhonghe pressed a kiss to her brow and closed his eyes in contentment.

With a wife like this, what more could a husband desire?

In the days that followed, with the help of the jade bed and Little Dragon Maiden’s care, Yun Zhonghe’s injuries healed swiftly.

It is worth mentioning that, after tasting such forbidden fruit, Yun Zhonghe was ever more eager for it.

As for Little Dragon Maiden, though she knew the pleasures of intimacy, she refused him for the sake of his health.

Understanding her concern, Yun Zhonghe did not insist, but constantly found new ways to tease her, leaving her at a loss for words.

In the end, she could only look at him with feigned annoyance.

One day, having not left the bed for many days, Yun Zhonghe thought to go out and stretch his limbs.

If he lay abed any longer, his wounds might heal but he himself would be ruined.

So, when Little Dragon Maiden wasn’t watching, he slipped out of the tomb.

He had only taken a few steps when he caught the faint scent of blood in the air.