Of Mountains and Rivers 52

This group of Flat People, who intended to launch a surprise attack, had actually been chased here by the Gatekeeper and Mountain Guard.

 

If Rug had a dictionary, there would probably be no words like "restraint" in it. The successive generations of Gatekeeper chieftains almost lived as long as the mountain gate itself. Over the years, the Gatekeeper had become the embodiment of the mountain gate. Anyone daring to offend the gate would be relentlessly exterminated as long as the Gatekeeper had the strength to climb.

 

Yuan Ping blew a long whistle, unique to the Gatekeeper. The sound was sharp, long, and piercing, almost painful to the ears when heard up close. On careful listening, it even carried a hint of an air-raid warning. The subtle variations in length and pitch held meanings that outsiders couldn't decipher, but they communicated perfectly among themselves.

 

The whistling echoed in response, equivalent to others exchanging just a few words. Yuan Ping's mouth was busy, but his hands were not idle. He swung his knife, beheading a Mutai, causing the Flat Person riding on its neck to tumble down, and Yuan Ping stepped on its neck, breaking it.

 

At the same time, Yuan Ping found a moment to check on Nan Shan and say, "Our Chief and his team have arrived. Nan Shan, how are you feeling?"

 

The antidote to the Wind injury took effect immediately, but the process was excruciating, feeling like thousands of ants gnawing at the bones. It was torture that made people wish for death. Nan Shan's hand trembled uncontrollably, but he didn't want to show any weakness, whether to Chu Huan or Yuan Ping.

 

So he endured the pain, giving a ghostly smile.

 

By now, purple-black venom oozed from Nan Shan's wound, indicating that the antidote was taking effect. Chu Huan had experienced this before and didn't waste any time. He bent down and delivered a heavy blow to Nan Shan's knee pit.

 

Nan Shan wasn't wary of him at all and fell victim to this blatant attack, causing his legs to go weak. He was then hoisted up by Chu Huan.

 

Nan Shan wanted to say something like, "Put…"

 

Chu Huan interrupted, "Shut up."

 

A whole real person was incomparable to the bony frame of the dead flower in terms of weight. Although Chu Huan could still bear the weight of just one person, his movements were inevitably affected.

 

Chu Huan instructed Yuan Ping, "Provide cover."

 

Fortunately, although the large group of Flat People and Mutai seemed intimidating, they were already in a state of disarray and couldn't regroup effectively.

 

The Mutai were just animals, and the Flat People would die with just a squeeze. The only trouble was the black monster that could spew its wind arrows aimlessly, making them hard to avoid.

 

At this moment, Chu Huan felt a gust of wind blowing from below, slowly and gently, as if it originated from the tip of a green reed. Then it rapidly rotated and expanded, centered around them. It turned into a huge vortex.

 

In the center of the vortex, they couldn't feel much wind force, but the further outward it went, the more violent it became. Nan Shan exerted almost all his strength this time. Trees in the forest swayed as if a typhoon had passed through.

 

The gusty wind scattered the wind arrows flying haphazardly, clearing a brief path for them.

 

Then Nan Shan completely lost his strength, weakly leaning against Chu Huan's god-like body. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and he could barely keep his eyes open. His injured arm hung by his side, and the venom continued to ooze out. The blood loss made him shiver all over, and his consciousness was getting increasingly hazy, almost delusional.

 

Gradually, all the clamor in the world seemed to recede from Nan Shan's ears. He forgot where he was, just vaguely thinking, "I can die without regrets."

 

At this moment, the sound of human voices finally drew near. The Mountain Guard and Gatekeeper were truly born warriors. As long as they weren't completely overwhelmed by numbers, they were experts at massacring monsters.

 

From above, the whistle sounded, and Yuan Ping translated, "This way, follow me!"

 

After saying that, he stuck to one side of the mountain, stepping on uneven rocks, and led the others quickly and nimbly toward higher ground. Then arrows rained down from the sky, leaving only a small path near the mountain foot for them to take while attacking other areas indiscriminately.

 

Unfortunately, the high intelligence of the Flat People posed a significant problem. The keen-eyed little creatures noticed the movements of Yuan Ping's group after a few of them were shot dead. They sounded the alarm, urging their Mutai companions to chase after them. The ferocious Gatekeeper would never harm their own people, which made the monsters hesitant.

 

At this moment, both humans and monsters were risking their lives in an environment where they could nimbly scale walls and leap between rooftops.

 

Just as the closest Mutai almost caught up with Big Mountain, opening its mouth to spew venom, a figure suddenly descended from the sky. Holding a long and narrow weapon, it brought an unmatched fierceness and directly pierced through the monster's neck.

 

That person had black and white skin and hair, with delicate features bordering on splendor. A sinister aura surrounded him like a water ghost.

 

Yuan Ping exclaimed, "Chief!"

 

It was Rug himself.

 

To their own chieftain, the newly appointed Gatekeeper was like a precious child. Rug's expression softened, and he cast a slightly ambiguous smile at Yuan Ping, which made the Mountain Guard members shudder in fear.

 

Then Rug noticed Nan Shan, who was being held by Chu Huan. His gaze sharpened. "Wind poison?"

 

Chu Huan replied, "The antidote has been administered."

 

Rug nodded, turned around, pursed his lips, and gave a whistle. Then he drew his blade across his chest and motioned to the disheveled group, "Lead the way."

 

Several Gatekeeper and Mountain Guard warriors jumped down one after another, rushing into the horde of black Mutai monsters, initiating a one-sided slaughter.

 

Chu Huan had only three arrows left in his quiver, and their group was completely exhausted. So they didn't hesitate to take shelter behind the Gatekeeper's front line.

 

In less than half an hour, except for a few scattered Flat People who fled in panic, the rest of the enemies were killed. Rug wiped the blood off his face and gave a cold order: "Clean up properly; don't let the corpses contaminate the water source."

 

After speaking, he turned around and approached Chu Huan's group. Rug knelt down, checking Nan Shan's forehead and neck pulse.

 

Chu Huan asked nervously, "How is he?"

 

Seeing his anxiety, Rug softened his initially stern attitude and whispered, "He'll be fine; endure it for tonight; he should be better tomorrow. Why did you take this route? What about another brother?"

 

The reasons behind it were complicated, and when it came to the club, several people fell silent simultaneously.

 

Seeing their reaction, Rug instantly understood. He paused and stood up, saying, "Let's go first. Nan Shan shouldn't go up for now. We have empty rooms at the gate. Let him rest there for the night, and we'll decide when he wakes up. As for the other brother…"

 

Xiao Fang said, "I'll go up the mountain and inform his family."

 

Rug nodded at the suggestion and walked ahead, leading the way.

 

His face remained cold and indifferent, but it wasn't that he didn't care. After walking a few steps, Rug couldn't hold back and turned to Yuan Ping, saying, "Come with me. Tell me what you encountered on the way."

 

Meanwhile, Chu Huan carried Nan Shan into the gate. They bypassed the Holy Spring and took a winding path through a series of small caves nested within large caves. Eventually, they arrived at a place that resembled a small valley, surrounded by towering cliffs on all sides. A beam of light shone straight down, creating a natural courtyard.

 

The small valley contained several small houses, fully equipped with bedding, that served as resting places for the Gatekeepers when they were off duty.

 

The Gatekeeper guiding them led Chu Huan to the largest room. After assessing Nan Shan's complexion, he lowered his voice and said, "Shall I bring you some food and water?"

 

Chu Huan proficiently spoke the Liyi Clan language and thanked the Gatekeeper as they quickly brought various essentials, thoughtfully closing the wooden door of the cave entrance. Gently placing Nan Shan on the bed, Chu Huan touched his sweat-drenched body, worried that he might become dehydrated.

 

As Chu Huan reached for a water jug to give Nan Shan some water, the delirious Nan Shan grabbed his arm tightly, holding on like a drowning man clutching a lifeline. Chu Huan tried to soothe him, saying, "Relax a bit, and I'll give you some water."

 

However, Nan Shan seemed oblivious to his words, tightly gripping Chu Huan's wrist. Unable to break free, Chu Huan bent down and spoke softly by his ear, "Loosen your grip, and I'll get you some water."

 

Still not responsive, Nan Shan held on with desperate strength, struggling as if fighting for his life. Chu Huan remained calm and allowed Nan Shan to embrace him. He then gently stroked Nan Shan's back, as if comforting him. Chu Huan reminded him of their initial plan to say goodbye, but Nan Shan couldn't respond in his current state.

 

With no other option, Chu Huan gently pressed on the back of Nan Shan's neck, making him lose consciousness completely. Afterward, Chu Huan cleaned and bandaged the wound, taking care of Nan Shan throughout the night.

 

As predicted by Rug, the next day Nan Shan woke up. He found himself back at the gate, with the door slightly ajar, allowing the gentle breeze to sweep into the room. Nan Shan turned his head to see Chu Huan sitting in the doorway, tinkering with something and occasionally making metallic sounds.

 

Chu Huan, after spending a long time living like a wild man, had asked his companions to retrieve his clothes and belongings from his dwelling when they returned to the mountaintop. Having stayed by Nan Shan's side all night, Chu Huan was finally cleaned up as the morning approached. He wore a blue vertically striped shirt, and long pants, and had his glasses back on, once again assuming a civilized appearance.

 

Nan Shan's gaze lingered on Chu Huan's figure, unable to look away. After some time, Chu Huan unintentionally turned around and noticed Nan Shan was already awake.

 

Chu Huan had a small piece of thin iron wire in his mouth, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he held unfamiliar tools commonly used by craftsmen in the clan.

 

"Awake?" Chu Huan spoke as he put down the wire and walked to the bedside, reaching out to touch Nan Shan's forehead.

 

Nan Shan's sturdy physique proved Rug's words right. Despite his multiple injuries and the mental and physical torment he endured, he slept through the night and woke up fully recovered, without any signs of inflammation.

 

Nan Shan felt a bit awkward being touched but didn't resist. He responded softly, "Hmm."

 

Chu Huan picked up a bowl by the bed and hesitated before asking, "Do you want wine or water?"

 

Nan Shan replied, "Wine."

 

Without further ado, Chu Huan took down a jug of wine hanging on the wall and poured a bowl of medicinal wine for Nan Shan. In an instant, they were transported back to that small county on the border.

 

On the first day that Nan Shan found Chu Huan, the latter was in a pitiful state, covered in cuts, bruises, and a penetrating wound of unknown origin, barely regaining consciousness after an entire day and night. They were in a similar situation then, separated only by a pot of strangely flavored medicinal wine, trying to communicate using a shabby dictionary.

 

Chu Huan watched Nan Shan drink the wine, saying nothing but whistling absentmindedly. It was the same tune Nan Shan heard when they first met, played on a leaf flute.

 

Chu Huan's musical talent was nowhere to be found. His whistle was neither melodious nor lively, lacking any sense of aestheticism—it sounded almost tuneless, making it hard to recognize the tune, much like a child blowing bubbles.

 

Nan Shan drank two big bowls of the medicinal wine, emboldened by the alcohol, and finally broke the silence, asking, "What were you doing just now?"

 

"Making skewers," Chu Huan replied, returning to the doorway. He leaned against the corner, extending both legs and relaxed. "It's the kind of frame Yuan Ping mentioned for grilling meat."

 

Chu Huan was indeed skilled in matters of food, drink, and leisure. In no time, he skillfully used discarded iron scraps to create a simple iron frame, connecting the pieces ingeniously without electric welding.

 

He cleaned the iron frame and oiled it, creating a distinctive aroma as the oil warmed up. Chu Huan used a pair of tongs to place thin slices of meat on the frame, causing the sizzling sound to fill the air with a tantalizing aroma that made one's mouth water. Chu Huan seemed to be an expert, flipping and adjusting the meat as if having grown three heads and six arms, effortlessly multitasking and mastering perfect timing.

 

Once the meat was grilled, Chu Huan put it on a bamboo plate and waved Nan Shan over, saying, "Come here."

 

Nan Shan would later learn that this kind of eating style was the most primal and straightforward in the vast and profound culinary culture of the He region. However, at that moment, he felt as if he could taste all the flavors of the world in that thin slice of grilled meat.

 

The vast, distant world that he yearned and thirsted for had been infused by Chu Huan into the various flavors of the grilled meat, revealing a glimpse of its complexity.

 

The two of them didn't say much, and with a pot of medicinal wine and a plate of grilled meat, they silently finished their meal together.