Du Qi fled the ward in utter embarrassment amidst Su Li's furious roars. Clutching his slightly bent lower back, he walked to a spot out of her sight, his face suddenly contorting in pain.
“For fuck's sake! Why the hell does her broken tail translate to a freaking herniated disc on me?!”
Du Qi sank to one knee, unable to stand. He truly couldn't comprehend why a cultivator would suffer from a herniated disc, let alone why he couldn't even heal it himself.
If he couldn't heal it, so be it... but why did his leg hurt so much too?! Du Qi felt as though he had lost all sensation from his waist down to his left leg.
Leaning on his right leg, he struggled to stand. He limped his way back to the ward.
Damn it. He had originally planned to brush off his clothes and depart, keeping his deeds and name hidden. Now, he was forced to go back and face the little ancestor's wrath.
Du Qi's face was pale. His constitution wasn't particularly strong to begin with, not to mention he was only at the Nascent Soul stage—two major realms below Su Li.
Forcing himself to absorb Su Li's injuries meant that even a minor injury to her became a significant ailment when transferred to him.
Supporting his overburdened lower back, he limped back into the ward.
As he reached the door, his steps faltered. A bizarre sense of guilt welled up in his chest.
Guilt? What did he have to feel guilty about? He had merely stroked a fox's head and pinched her ears. Surely he didn't feel guilty about taking her injuries? There was absolutely nothing to feel guilty about there.
Since he enjoyed the benefits of the contract, he naturally had to fulfill his duties as her Dao Protector. The little fox getting injured was his own oversight. This was just making amends... right?
He tried to convince himself with these excuses, desperately smoothing over that inexplicable guilt.
If possible, he really wanted to hypnotize Su Li right now. What would she say when he went back in? What would she do?
He had no idea.
The severe herniated disc was practically begging him to lie down. Waves of dull, aching soreness, mixed with sharp, stabbing pains, radiated from his lower back.
Du Qi gritted his teeth. He had never been a coward in his life; the cowardly Du Ling had died long ago.
He pushed open the door and limped back to his bed, collapsing face down onto it.
Su Li was sitting on her bed, her tails already retracted. She leaned against the headboard with her legs crossed, her expression complicated. Her delicate, well-proportioned feet were adorned with vibrant red nail polish.
What on earth is this guy trying to do? She stared at Du Qi, who looked half-dead on his bed, and pursed her lips.
How annoying...
Why did he take her injuries for no reason? Is he some kind of masochist?
Su Li didn't believe a mere contract could bind Du Qi. This man was a Confucian cultivator who could seal her cultivation with a single word. A contract?
If he were a typical scholar who blindly followed the sages, maybe. But this was Du Qi. He didn't possess an ounce of genuine contract spirit. Beneath his scholarly exterior lay countless schemes.
And every single one of them was pitch black. She cast one last glance at the guy, who had already fallen asleep again. Her mind was as tangled as a patch of weeds. Why did he do this?
It couldn't be that he fancied her, could it?
The moment the thought arose, Su Li startled herself. A suspicious blush crept onto her cheeks. She quickly banished all thoughts of Du Qi from her mind.
If she didn't clear them out now, she felt like she might actually explode. She hurriedly scrambled off the bed.
She casually instructed a nearby Elixir Hall disciple, telling them to give Du Qi the highest-grade treatment for whatever was ailing him once he woke up.
Then, she bolted from the ward barefoot. To be fair, the fox didn't like wearing shoes anyway, but her barefoot escape this time carried a distinct air of panic and haste.
...
“Elder Qingwei, the Central Continent Alliance is currently in ruins and waiting to be rebuilt. Our noble clans are naturally willing to contribute. However...”
At the peak of Sword Peak, inside the Sect Master's hall of the Sword Sect. Previously, Zixiao would sit in the seat of honor, with Qingwei seated slightly below him.
But now, Qingwei sat in the seat of honor, while the young man who had just spoken sat where Qingwei used to.
The young man hadn't expected this. He had originally come to capture Du Ling and bring him back to Moyan Commandery, only for such a massive incident to erupt in the Central Continent two days ago.
He had sent the information back to the old man. His letter had dropped heavy hints that this was a golden opportunity to tear a massive chunk of flesh from the Central Continent Alliance.
Yet, the old man's reply contained only one line: “Bring Du Ling back. Do not meddle in anything else.”
It made sense. The old man probably needed his useless band of children just to help him stand up these days. How could he care about the clan's interests?
All the patriarch cared about now was staying alive. He would trade anything for a chance to prolong his life.
It was only after Du Yi hinted that Du Ling might be within the Central Continent Alliance that the South-Central Du Clan agreed to endorse his current actions.
Du Yi realized this was an opportunity. It was his chance to stick his head out of the South-Central Du Clan and breathe some fresh air.
Of course, sticking his head out also meant risking losing it. If the old man thousands of miles away found out about his unauthorized moves...
Everything he had, everything he had struggled so bitterly to obtain, would instantly turn to ash. But the sunlight outside the window was too dazzling, tempting him to gamble. He was gambling that the old man's focus was entirely on Du Ling right now.
He was gambling that the patriarch had no time to purge him, and that once Du Ling was dealt with, he would be dismissed as nothing more than a minor nuisance.
By then, perhaps he could leverage the power of the Central Continent Alliance to rescue his mother, escaping that oppressive place where picking up one's chopsticks before others meant going hungry for three days.
He suppressed the turbulent emotions in his heart. Not yet. The old man hadn't gone senile, and his own intentions couldn't be exposed too obviously.
He looked at Qingwei, who was sipping his tea, and finished his sentence.
“I wonder if your esteemed sect has a Confucian cultivator surnamed Du? He is my elder brother.”
Surnamed Du... Qingwei set his teacup down. He didn't know the man's surname, but he certainly knew about the new Confucian cultivator who had appeared in the alliance—the one staying with Lass Su.
Was he from the South-Central Du Clan? No wonder he looked familiar. If he was indeed this young man's brother, Qingwei really ought to give them an explanation. After all, the brother had suffered quite a bit of hardship since arriving at the Central Continent Alliance.
He opened his mouth, about to apologize. But on second thought, wasn't that lad Lass Su's companion? Why should he be the one apologizing? He should just let this young man deal with Lass Su directly.
That would handily rid him of this troublesome matter. He was currently pulling his hair out trying to reorganize the internal affairs of the Central Continent Alliance. To make matters worse, the Zixiao Sword Sect and the Elixir Hall were both heavily dependent on Class-A calamity seeds.
Now that he had banned the calamity seeds, the entire sect was on the verge of mutiny. He spent every day wishing he had learned the legendary One Qi Tri-Division technique so he could split himself into three clones. He was busy to the point of exhaustion. Why would he waste time bickering with a scholar?
He coughed twice, preparing to pass the buck to the Beast Taming Sect. But just as he was about to speak, a red figure kicked the main doors open with a loud bang.
Qingwei's lips twitched.
Talk of the devil...
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