Nameless Territory Arc Chapter 24: Recuperation

“Damn it, that useless black-robed Taoist exposed himself so quickly! Still, he has a formation disk nearly of the fourth rank in his hands; even if it’s a dog-eat-dog fight, it will wear down some of Xuan Qizi’s strength. But now, my plans must change. Zhou Xuanhong, you little ant, you’ve ruined my business—I'll make sure you’re utterly annihilated!”

On Taiping Peak of the Form-Pattern Sect, the Elder’s residence, the spiritual energy was second only to the Sect Master's Peak and the Supreme Peak. Now, as he watched Xuan Qizi’s flying disk depart, his heart burned with wrath.

His divine sense extended, enveloping Zhou Xuanhong on the sickbed in the Immortal Medical Hall within the Vice Hall. Sensing Zhou’s feeble aura, his dantian nearly shattered, and his sea of consciousness gravely injured—even if he survived, he’d likely be a cripple for life—the Elder’s murderous intent towards him faded somewhat.

Suppressing the impulse to crush Zhou Xuanhong with his divine will, the white-bearded Elder forced himself to calm down and ponder his next steps.

“Now that old fox Xuan Qizi is bent on entering the Nascent Soul stage—if he succeeds, I’ll have lost half the battle, and there’s no point in fighting for power any longer. Therefore, I must seize control before he breaks through. The Form-Pattern Sect will not bear the Xu family’s name—I won’t resign myself to defeat!

My carefully laid killing move has been discovered; setting another is unwise. All I can rely on now is the Yin Corpse Sect. But that’s a starving wolf—if it’s not fed, it will turn on me, and time is short.

Heavenly Guo Master stands with me, restraining the Dayan Master, but the rest is up to me. If I fail, there'll be no place for me in the Form-Pattern Sect.

Xuan Qizi appears upright but is ruthless at heart—I can’t believe he’s unprepared. From recent information, he’s been cozying up to the Five-Spirit Pill Valley under the guise of trade—how short-sighted! What real power could a bunch of pill refiners have?

The only thing that worries me is the Song Mountain Sword Pavilion—those sword fanatics are a problem if he wins them over. But since it’s only a branch pavilion, they shouldn’t get involved in our internal power struggles—unless they can’t resist the urge to ‘defend the Dao’ and disrupt my plans.

Everything now depends on how the black-robed Taoist responds. If he escapes the Sect’s reach, there may be a chance to negotiate again. But if Xuan Qizi crushes him, let him not blame me for being ruthless.”

The originator of Liu Xiang’s troubles was, at that moment, lying unconscious in the Immortal Medical Hall, being treated as a guinea pig by the diminutive immortal healer, who made all sorts of suggestive gestures toward his female apprentice, paying no heed to the critically wounded patient nearby.

“Master, can this leg be reattached?”

The short man patted his chest confidently, “Of course. Your master is the finest immortal healer for ten thousand miles around—a severed leg is nothing. Even if it was completely destroyed, I could make him grow a new one. But the wound is tainted with ghostly energy—it must be cut away. Watch closely!”

From the rear courtyard, he fetched a basin filled with wriggling maggots, stomach-churning to behold.

“These are carrion-eaters I extracted from the outer disciples’ waste. Disgusting as they look, after my careful breeding, they’re perfectly safe, and their waste accelerates wound healing.”

With that, he dumped the maggots onto Zhou Xuanhong’s torn leg, where they began devouring the dead flesh. The black excrement they left behind gave off a faint aura of vitality.

The female disciple gazed at her master in adoration, clinging to his arm, “Master, teach me how to raise them, won’t you?”

The short man grinned slyly, “Of course, but that depends on how you perform tonight!”

“Oh, Master, you’re impossible!”

Meanwhile, deep in Zhou Xuanhong’s sea of consciousness, his soul had not lost awareness. With his extraordinary talent for soul arts, he played the part of a small, desperate victim to perfection.

He’d also witnessed the lewd antics of master and apprentice, but cared little; such things were common enough, and after all, they were saving his life.

“Xuan Qizi, what a fine master you are. I sent out a distress talisman, and you ignored it. I’d planned to leave you a way out, but now—no mercy for your Xu family line!”

When he was being hunted, he’d activated a message talisman, thinking Xuan Qizi would arrive late at most, so he’d acted his injuries convincingly, at some cost to himself. He’d thought his master would retrieve him, but even when he dragged his broken body back, Xuan Qizi didn’t appear.

“Go on, send more people. That so-called third-rank peak formation disk will give you all a big surprise!”

Zhou Xuanhong felt no loyalty to the Form-Pattern Sect—Xuan Qizi saw him as a counterweight to the Elder, but he, too, regarded Xuan Qizi as a mere stepping stone; it was mutual exploitation.

This mishap was, in fact, a blessing: with Xuan Qizi absent, his performance was more convincing—even the Supreme Elder would not detect any falsehood.

At dawn the next day, Zhou Xuanhong awoke from his forced slumber, which had aided his soul’s recovery. After a night’s rest, his aura had stabilized—still weak, but far better than before, and his severed leg had begun to knit together.

“You’re awake. It looks like your recovery is going well. You must have just broken through—if your self-healing was still at the Qi Refinement stage, you wouldn’t have survived the night.”

In front of others, the short man assumed his dignified, scholarly demeanor, which Zhou Xuanhong found faintly ridiculous, though he kept a respectful face.

“Thank you, senior, for saving my life. I, Zhou Xuanhong, shall never forget your kindness.”

The healer waved him off. “No need to thank me. Healing the sick and saving the dying is my duty. As an immortal physician, it’s my honor to rescue a soul from death’s door.”

“You flatter me, Immortal Healer. May I ask your name?”

The short man stood with hands clasped behind his back, head held high, as if loath to say. The girl beside him quickly interjected, “Senior Brother, this is Master Gu Tianyun, head of the Immortal Medical Hall. Immortal healing is a rare path, so few know his name. I’m Yao Yao—you can call me Junior Sister Yao. If you need anything, just ask.”

Just then, a knock sounded at the door—it was the sibling pair, Kong Xiaori and Kong Xiaoyue. Xiaoyue knocked while Xiaori carried a pot of soup.

“Heh, ahaha, chicken soup’s here! Senior Brother Zhou, what happened to you? You look half-dead. Quick, drink up while it’s hot—it’ll do you good.”

Kong Xiaoyue stamped her brother’s foot. “Brother, look at Senior Brother Zhou—how can you joke at a time like this?”

Kong Xiaori was unfazed. “He’s not dead yet, is he? Only the good die young—rascals like this live forever. Eat up—why aren’t you eating? If you don’t, the soup’ll go cold.”

Zhou Xuanhong gave him a helpless look. “You little rascal, still holding a grudge over that prank I played on you the other day? You’re teasing an injured man now. Look at me, how am I supposed to eat? Who knows how many bones are broken; this leg was just reattached and I can’t feel a thing. Unless you want your sister to feed me?”

Kong Xiaori’s eyes widened. “You’ve got the energy to tease me, so you can eat on your own. My sister only feeds me. Open wide, I’ll just pour it in.”

Yao Yao, seeing that Xiaori was still young and might not know his limits, quickly intervened. “Little brother, Senior Zhou needs quiet and rest—eating now isn’t wise.”

Gu Tianyun, however, stopped her, sniffing the soup. “What an aroma! This is snow-bone black chicken, paired with several edible half-spirit herbs—a top-tier dish among second-rank spiritual cuisine. Did you make this?”

Kong Xiaori nodded. “Yeah, why? Can’t he eat it?”

Gu Tianyun shook his head, “Of course he can, but not too much. Maybe this old man can help finish it off?”

Kong Xiaori eyed the shameless old man disdainfully. “It’s just one chicken. Wait till he’s done.”

“Very well.” He turned to Zhou Xuanhong. “You’re still recovering. Your organs are all injured to some degree, so eat sparingly to avoid overtaxing yourself.”

“Naturally, naturally.”

The task of feeding the soup fell to Yao Yao. The scent made her mouth water, and seeing Zhou Xuanhong savor every bite made her wish for a taste herself.

As he ate, Zhou Xuanhong asked, “Xiaori, what happened after I passed out yesterday?”

Kong Xiaori recounted how the Sect Master led the elders and disciples in a raid on Ridge North City, apparently unconcerned.

“They haven’t returned yet?”

Seeing Kong Xiaori shake his head, Zhou Xuanhong asked, “Shouldn’t you all be at the Martial Platform lecture now? Did Elder Xu Yuan go as well?”

Kong Xiaori nodded. “She went too. We’ll probably spend the day in the library.”

At this, Zhou Xuanhong handed him the inner disciple token from his storage pouch. “The first floor’s no use to you—go check out the second floor.”

Kong Xiaori accepted it without fuss. For talents like the siblings, there was no art or spell in the Form-Pattern Sect beyond their reach.

“Go on then, don’t forget tonight’s meal.”

Kong Xiaori rolled his eyes. “Eat, eat, eat—one day you’ll die of gluttony.”

The siblings left, Xiaori munching chicken and sipping soup as he went, finally leaving only the tips of the wings and the tail for Gu Tianyun.

Gu Tianyun was displeased and mimicked Kong Xiaori, “Eat, eat, eat—one day you’ll die of gluttony!”

But even with just the wingtips and tail, both Gu Tianyun and Yao Yao gnawed the bones clean.