Chapter 17

The girl asked to be called Bi Lang, meaning a sad wolf. Zhang Jian was curious as to why such a bright and lively girl would have such a name, but since she did not offer an explanation, he did not ask.

The tent where Zhang Jian was now was not very large. According to Jifeng, it was set up specifically to take care of him, even though it was not being used before. Bi Lang brought water and a thick porridge-like dish and then left the tent. Jifeng said she was still shy, so not to mind her.

"I want to express my gratitude."

After finishing the porridge, Zhang Jian, still sitting inside the tent, said to Jifeng. Jifeng laughed heartily in response.

"Gratitude? You want to repay me? Then give me money."

"…Do you use money from the Central Plains?"

"We don't use it among ourselves. But we need Central Plains money to buy things in the lower village. Because of this, other tribes around us also use Central Plains money. It's actually quite convenient."

Zhang Jian smiled and found his clothes in the corner of the tent. He took out all the money left from gambling, except for one coin, and handed it to Jifeng. Jifeng laughed widely when he saw the silver coins in his pocket.

"Wow! You're giving all of this?"

"In return, I'll stay for a few days."

"Sure, no problem! Ah! I should return your sword, right? Wait a moment. I'll bring it right away."

Jifeng said and left the tent. Zhang Jian, watching his back, immediately sat cross-legged and began to circulate his inner energy.

Following his will, the power generated in the dantian flowed through the meridians, passing through the twelve regular meridians and the eight extraordinary meridians, reaching the Luo meridians, making his entire body feel warm. The spear of the Lian family warrior that pierced through Zhang Jian's shoulder was coated with a rather strong poison, which exacerbated the wound.

Therefore, Zhang Jian later untied the acupoints he had bound, extracting the dead blood and the poison that had disrupted the meridians. However, the amount of blood he expelled was unexpectedly large, causing him to lose consciousness. Of course, even during this time, his inner energy, without his will, minimized his body's activity to promote healing. But if Bi Lang had not found and brought him here, it would have taken much longer for his wound to heal.

Zhang Jian burned off the remaining traces of poison in his shoulder. At the same time, he stimulated the surrounding meridians to enhance his healing ability and calmly completed his cultivation. The heavy inner energy, formed through the teachings of many martial arts masters, Zhang Jian's creative attempts, and his experience, filled his dantian.

Taking a deep breath and opening his eyes, Zhang Jian felt that moving his arm was much easier. He did not think he would stay here for long.

Rising, Zhang Jian put on his clothes roughly and stepped out of the tent. In the cool air, the bright sunlight stabbed his eyes. Frowning and straightening his bent back, he saw a village with wooden huts and tents mixed together, emitting white smoke. The tent he came out of was at the edge of the village.

"Hey? You're already out? It would be better to rest a bit more inside."

Turning his head, he saw Bi Lang and Zhaozao. Bi Lang seemed to be untying Zhaozao's saddle and brushing him. Zhang Jian smiled faintly at the sight.

"I ate the porridge well."

"Ah, did it taste good?"

"A bit salty."

"…Don't people usually say it's delicious even if it's not?"

"But salty is still salty."

Bi Lang looked at Zhang Jian with a slight smile.

"Then next time I'll have to prepare it myself. I can't control the salt."

"I said it was salty, not that it was bad. It was delicious."

"…Really?"

She smiled and quickly turned her head to Zhaozao.

"Does this guy have a name? He seems pretty smart. At first, he tried to block me."

"He's more cunning than smart. His name is Zhaozao."

"Zhaozao?"

As she muttered, Zhaozao immediately rubbed his head against her and purred. The sound seemed like a person laughing slyly. But Bi Lang, finding it cute, brushed Zhaozao's mane.

"Zhaozao, Zhaozao. I don't know much about naming people from the Central Plains, but it's a fun name to pronounce."

"I thought it would be fun too. But as time goes by, he's getting more cunning, which makes me think it might not have been a good name."

"Why? What does it mean?"

"It's not so much the meaning, but the original owner of the name had some issues…"

Bi Lang, not understanding, smiled and looked at Zhang Jian, asking for an explanation. Seeing her smile, Zhang Jian smiled bitterly. He had no way to explain. How could he explain a lost history?

Jifeng, who appeared with Zhang Jian's sword in his left hand, saved him.

"Ah, Zhang Jian. Is it okay to come out? Well, anyway, moving around a bit will help you recover faster. It's good timing."

When Zhang Jian and Bi Lang looked at him questioningly, Jifeng continued.

"I'm bringing you your sword, and the elder wants to see you. Since you're up, let's go right away."

"The elder?"

"He's the one who communicates with souls. He's also the oldest in our tribe and the second person to strongly advocate for your treatment. The first, you know, is obvious."

Zhang Jian nodded. The elder of the village wanted to see his face. Jifeng led the way. At that moment, Bi Lang, who had been blushing, tried to follow. But Jifeng stopped her.

"He wants to see you alone."

She pouted but eventually stopped and looked at Zhang Jian. Zhang Jian, following Jifeng, turned back to her and lightly bowed.

"Thank you for saving me."

Bi Lang smiled widely.

"It's nothing. From what I heard, it wasn't that dangerous. Maybe you can tell me some stories about the Central Plains later."

* * *

As Zhang Jian followed Jifeng, he could feel the people of the tribe looking at him with wary or curious eyes. Most were more curious than wary, and some even stopped in their tracks to stare at him. The glittering golden eyes made Zhang Jian feel uncomfortable.

Jifeng, stopping the curious tribe members, made excuses about being busy because the elder called, clearing the way. They walked to a small tent set up between the tribe and the forest.

Jifeng, standing in front of the tent, stopped Zhang Jian.

"From your command of our language, I can guess you'll show proper respect in front of the elder. But I should still say this: don't act rashly from the perspective of a person from the Central Plains."

Zhang Jian nodded deeply in response. Jifeng, seemingly pleased with his silent demeanor, smiled and looked at the tent.

"Elder, I've brought the friend. Should I let him in?"

Without any response from inside, Jifeng moved aside, opening the tent entrance.

"Go in. I'll return your sword later."

Zhang Jian, a bit bewildered, bowed and entered. Inside, he found the highest elder and shaman of the tribe. Could he really meet so easily?

The tent was decorated with colorful fabrics, feathers, animal bones, and skins. At the back of the tent, facing the entrance, sat an old man similarly adorned. He had deep wrinkles, eyes that seemed both open and closed, and yellow and red patterns drawn on his face.

As Zhang Jian entered, the old man opened one eye and looked at him. Zhang Jian, finding the red eye intriguing, lightly clasped his hands.

"My name is Zhang Jian."

The old man did not respond, just staring at him with his red eye. After a moment of thought, Zhang Jian simply sat down. The old man's eyebrows twitched.

"I didn't tell you to sit."

"The tent is a bit low to stand."

The old man, looking at Zhang Jian's natural action, smiled.

"Your pronunciation is good. Where did you learn our language?"

"Far to the southwest, there's a place called Tianhou City by the coast. It's the largest of the three cities the emperor established here. Many people from this land work there, and among them are those who teach the language of each tribe for money."

"Working under the people of the Central Plains? They must be Rock People or Wilderness People. They've always had a hard time surviving. That's why your accent sounds like the southern dialect."

Zhang Jian felt a sense of bitterness from the old man's words, sensing the deep divide and distance between the tribes. He thought, the emotions based on regions are similar wherever people live. The old man continued.

"My name is One-Eyed Cloud. I'm the oldest in this village. I've lived so long that even the young people wonder why I haven't died. I might be the oldest in the surrounding tribes. And all this is thanks to the ancestors' protection, though some say I use evil magic. Of course, I don't let such people get away with it…"

As Zhang Jian listened, the old man's words seemed endless. But because of what Jifeng said, he did not interrupt.

"…No matter the tribe, shouldn't there be mutual respect and courtesy? I was the shaman of this village even when those young people were just babies. Nowadays, it seems only Red Wind respects age. Meeting a person from the Central Plains is rare, so my words are getting long. What's your name again?"

"…Um. Nice to meet you, One-Eyed Cloud. Let me introduce myself again: my name is Zhang Jian."

It seemed that Jifeng and Bi Lang's talkative nature was due to this old man. Zhang Jian had a foreboding feeling that everyone in the village might be talkative. To prevent the conversation from getting longer, he quickly asked.

"You strongly advocated for my treatment in the village. Why?"

"Should I have thrown away what the sad wolf brought? They said your horse followed you very well. A person who has earned a horse's heart can't be a bad person, so helping a wounded and tired person was the right thing to do."

"…I see."

Zhang Jian looked down and smiled lightly. It was a familiar answer.

"And it was also out of personal interest."

Zhang Jian was a bit puzzled by One-Eyed Cloud's continued words. Was he interested in a Central Plains person lying by the river?

The old man, seeing his expression, slowly opened his other eye. In the dim tent, the eye slowly opened, shining in a silver ring shape. Red right eye and silver left eye. The two eyes, glowing faintly in the tent's shadow, had a mysterious aura that gave a sense of vast distance. They stared directly at Zhang Jian.

The old man's mouth opened.

"So, how is your second life? Is it enjoyable?"

Zhang Jian, without answering, just stared at the two eyes. He did not panic or ask how the old man knew, but calmly met the mysterious eyes and answered.

"Not exactly. Life is like that."

One-Eyed Cloud stared at Zhang Jian for a long time with a deep, penetrating gaze. But Zhang Jian showed no signs of wavering. The old man let out a small sigh.

"…It doesn't seem like you used any evil magic or dark powers. I've heard that sometimes such things just happen. I didn't expect to see it myself. It's a matter of living long enough…"

Zhang Jian smiled.

"Was your interest because of that?"

"Wouldn't anyone be interested in seeing someone living a second life? When I saw the face of the person the sad wolf brought, I was quite surprised. At first, I thought it was a demon!"

"I find your eyes more intriguing. Can you see my soul?"

"Tsk! You shouldn't ask such things. Magic loses its power when broken down. You martial artists also risk your lives to keep the secrets of your skills, right?"

"…Most of them will teach you for money."

Zhang Jian answered somewhat reluctantly. His martial arts foundation was built with money, after all. But One-Eyed Cloud, hearing this, erased his previous seriousness and beamed.

"Oh. So you also teach martial arts for money?"

"…It's a bit complicated with my martial arts. I learned them in a rather eclectic way."

But the old man laughed.

"That's fine. I just need someone to spar with."

"…Spar?"

Zhang Jian felt his reluctance deepen.