Chapter 12

This seems to be a dilapidated land temple, with the deity statue tilted and cracked, the incense altar worn out, the prayer mat scattered, and the oil lamp long dry.

The incense burner had vanished without a trace, leaving only a circle on the table where it once stood.

The walls were cracked, and the north wind whistled through the gaps, piercing to the bone, offering only a slight improvement over camping in the wild.

In the cold wind, he huddled in the corner, his clothes tattered.

The one who kicked him was a youth of seventeen or eighteen, with sharp features and a hint of childishness, dressed in fine brocade, though it was clear from a glance that he hadn't changed for days, with holes and bloodstains, and a weary appearance.

"Brother Hu, you are really kind to wake him up for a meal?" In the middle of the temple, a fire was burning, radiating heat and bringing a bit of warmth to the humble shelter.

By the fire, six or seven people were sitting around, some adding wood, others stirring sweet potatoes and corn in the fire.

A skewer of plucked mountain chicken was roasting, the oil glistening, and the mouthwatering aroma wafted through the air. The speaker carefully sprinkled salt on it while swallowing saliva.

"We are all fallen from grace, why make things difficult for each other?" Brother Hu sighed, stuffing a steamed bun into Mu Canyang's mouth, "Eat it yourself, don't drop it, or there won't be any left if it falls on the ground."

These were not the players, but NPCs.

The ones he used to serve wanted to kill him on sight, while those he used to suppress had saved him...

Although he had long accepted this reality, Mu Canyang still felt a complex mix of emotions when it actually happened.

As for being tied up, if you were to encounter an injured and unconscious stranger on the road, what would you do?

You should have the heart to save, but also the heart to be cautious.

Mu Canyang nodded with the steamed bun in his mouth, making a "hehe" sound as a sign of gratitude.

He was indeed hungry, having lost blood and expended a lot of energy from fleeing.

Young Master Hu waved his hand and went to gnaw on the mountain chicken.

While Mu Canyang struggled to eat the steamed bun, he scanned the group. Except for two thin men hiding in the shadows, everyone else was robust and weathered.

They must be a group of martial artists, but those two thin men seemed a bit suspicious. How could he get closer to take a look?

After a moment's thought, he had an idea.

He turned his head and continued scanning. As he got closer, he suddenly stiffened, causing his wound to flare up, and he coughed violently, the steamed bun flying out of his mouth.

He seemed to have just noticed that there was another person behind him, lying there, either dead or alive, covered in wounds and blood!

In fact, when he was half-awake, he had heard the angry shouts and blows around him, "I will kill you!" "You traitor!" "Ungrateful scoundrel!" and so on.

Seeing his violent reaction, the group burst into laughter, "You can't tell, this guy looks strong, but he's such a coward."

"Looking at his muscles, I thought he was a master, but he's just a silver-tipped spear!"

Young Master Hu also laughed, then explained, "That's my servant, ungrateful and traitorous, beaten by me."

"Right! Right!" Mu Canyang nodded dumbly, "Such a person deserves to die!"

While saying this, his eyes glanced to the side of the fire, awkwardly looking at the corner.

His steamed bun was lying there quietly.

With his hands and feet tied behind him, he thought for a moment, then lay down and started rolling.

One circle, two circles, by the third circle, the group realized he was trying to reach the steamed bun on the ground, and they burst into laughter again, looking down on him even more.

This guy not only looked strong but was also a fool.

"Xiao Lian, give him the steamed bun!" In the corner, a thin man said to another even thinner man.

"Okay." Xiao Lian picked up the steamed bun, a bit impatient, but still brushed off the dirt, carefully peeled off the outer layer, and put it back into Mu Canyang's mouth.

They were actually two girls. Up close, Mu Canyang finally saw clearly.

Xiao Lian was nimble and quick, obedient and well-behaved, probably named Xiao Lian. The one next to her was most likely the young mistress, a master-servant pair.

Although they had darkened their skin and tied up their hair, their round cheeks and clear eyes were unmistakable. Ordinary people might not notice, but Mu Canyang, who had experienced various makeup techniques and Photoshop, could still recognize them.

Just as he was about to continue acting foolish, he noticed a flash of doubt in the young mistress's eyes and stopped.

Although he was dressed like a wild man, with bamboo knives, bamboo tubes, leather, and homemade hemp ropes... and the way he treated his wounds.

Could all of this be the work of a fool?

Foolish behavior might fool the rough men by the fire, but it seemed... it couldn't fool this meticulous girl.

After a moment's thought, Mu Canyang held the steamed bun in his mouth, nodded to the two girls, then slowly rolled back to his corner.

Although his actions were comical, he remained unperturbed.

The rough men continued to mock him, and the round-faced young mistress indeed dispelled her doubts.

Even the noblest can fall on hard times, and cherishing food is not a sin.

Everyone continued to sit around and eat, and in their conversation, Mu Canyang learned that most of them were surnamed Guo, both relatives and fellow disciples, who had been framed as rebels and were now on the run.

These people were very likely the targets of the players.

He had suspected this from the beginning, but... considering the direction the players were tracking and his own escape route, which were almost opposite, he hadn't dared to confirm.

Now he knew that the Guo family had split into several groups, and this was just one of them. The players were probably following other leads.

He couldn't stay with these people; he had to find a way to leave!

Staying with the players' targets was too dangerous!

Especially since the young mistress had exquisite features, a pair of clear, charming eyes, and even with the dirt and shadows, her beauty was hard to hide.

This was always the focus of the players.

But... how to leave? His hands and feet were tied with oiled cowhide ropes, tied in a pig's hoof knot, which couldn't be loosened or broken.

While he struggled to swallow the steamed bun, Mu Canyang thought, suddenly noticing the concerned gaze directed at the dead man in the corner. He smiled: he had an idea!

He began to prepare secretly.

After eating and drinking, the group started discussing how to take turns keeping watch.

Just as the discussion was getting intense, there was a sudden "pu" sound, and a light rain began to fall in the small space of the land temple.

Wiping the wet spots, it was clear that it wasn't rain, but blood!

The group was startled and looked toward the source of the sound, seeing Mu Canyang lying on the ground, eyes rolled back, mouth foaming, face blue, and throat making a "hehe" sound.

Although the cowhide ropes bound his hands and feet, it seemed that wasn't enough.

His entire body was stretched backward, almost forming a bow, still twitching like a fish struggling on land.

"Bad, this guy is having a seizure!"

"Maybe the poison wound hasn't healed, and it's acting up now?"

"Quick, quick, do you have a towel? Put it in his mouth so he doesn't bite his tongue off."

"Ropes, loosen the ropes first, tie them to the front, and it will stretch him out, so he doesn't hurt his waist."

Although they looked down on Mu Canyang, when they thought he was having a seizure, they all rushed to help.

Few noticed that, while changing his position, Mu Canyang quietly folded a piece of the cowhide rope and gripped it tightly in his palm.