Chapter 27 Tsk tsk tsk

The wind at the edge of the desert still carried fine sand, its touch dull against their faces. When the four men dragged their leaden legs out of the dunes, the sky had darkened like an ink-soaked cloth, with only the dim light of streetlights on the distant city's edge illuminating the scene. Zhang Qiling walked in front, his left hand constantly supporting Hei Xiazi's waist—Hei Xiazi's left leg was still wobbling, his trousers rolled up to his knees, revealing skin chafed red by the sand, yet he insisted on pressing his weight onto Zhang Qiling, his voice hoarse as if containing sand: "Dumb, the path you chose, if I take two more steps I'll be lying sideways out here."

Zhang Qiling didn't turn around, but slowed her pace slightly, her fingertips subtly gripping the fabric at Hei Xiazi's lower back to help him steady himself. Wu Xie followed behind, carrying both of their backpacks, his shoulders feeling quite heavy, but he still leaned close to Xie Yuchen and whispered, "Brother Xie's choice of direction is definitely correct. He's looked for clues in this area before, so he should have a temporary place to stay." Xie Yuchen nodded, clutching his compass, occasionally glancing up at the night sky—the constellations were chaotic, as if something was about to crash into them.

Not long after, Zhang Qiling flagged down an old taxi. As he opened the door, he first bent down to help Hei Xiazi inside before getting into the back seat himself, his arm braced against the door to make room for Hei Xiazi to lean back comfortably. Wu Xie and Xie Yuchen sat in the front. The driver glanced at the two sand-covered people in the back seat through the rearview mirror, asked no questions, and drove to the address Zhang Qiling had given him—it was an old building in the suburbs slated for demolition, its walls peeling away to reveal the red bricks underneath, but the doors and windows were reinforced with thick sheet metal, clearly indicating special reinforcement.

“This place reminds me of where Chen Pi Asi used to hide his goods.” As Zhang Qiling helped him out of the car, Hei Xiazi deliberately leaned close to his ear, his warm breath brushing against Zhang Qiling’s earlobe. Zhang Qiling’s fingers paused for a moment, then he pulled a string of old keys from his pocket—the keychain was a small bronze bell, which he had picked up years ago at the underwater tomb in the Xisha Islands and had never lost—and inserted it into the lock, turning it twice. “I kept this when I was helping people find things; it can keep me out of trouble.”

Pushing open the door, a strong smell of old wood mixed with herbs hit them. The living room contained only a wooden table with a missing leg, and several canvas bags piled in the corner. Zhang Qiling didn't rest; he immediately helped Hei Xiazi towards the bedroom. Seeing this, Wu Xie quickly put down his backpack and went with Xie Yuchen to the kitchen to find a kettle: "I'll boil some water. Just tell me what you need, Brother." Xie Yuchen opened the canvas bags and rummaged through them; inside were some compressed biscuits, an emergency light, and half a bottle of strong liquor brought from the Queen Mother of the West's palace—later they learned that Hei Xiazi had secretly slipped it in, saying, "It can be used for disinfection in case."

The bedroom contained only a narrow wooden bed covered with faded coarse sheets. As Zhang Qiling helped Hei Xiazi sit down, the man suddenly hissed and instinctively grabbed Zhang Qiling's wrist with his left hand—his collar had slipped down, revealing a wound on his shoulder. The original dark red edges had turned black, and the poison was spreading towards his collarbone; even his skin felt cold. Zhang Qiling's brows furrowed instantly; this was the first time he had shown such obvious emotion since leaving the Queen Mother of the West's palace.

"Do we need to go to the hospital?" Wu Xie came in carrying hot water and gasped when he saw the wound. "This poison looks even more potent than that of the blood corpse." Zhang Qiling shook his head, bent down, and pulled an iron box from under the bed—it was something he had brought from the Seven Star Lu Palace. Inside were antidotes left behind by Xie Lianhuan, and a sharpened dagger. "No need," he said, picking up the dagger and sterilizing it by the stove fire coming from the kitchen. His voice was deeper than usual. "The hospital can't handle corpse poison; it'll only alert others."

Hei Xiazi leaned against the headboard, watching Zhang Qiling's profile—the firelight reflected on his face, the shadow cast by his eyelashes swaying gently, his fingers gripping the short knife with a steady strength, but Wu Xie didn't notice that Zhang Qiling's knuckles had already turned white. "It's nothing," Hei Xiazi suddenly spoke, his tone carrying his usual roguishness, "I survived being bitten by a zombie back then, what's a little poison?" He was about to raise his hand to move when Zhang Qiling turned and glanced at him—his eyes weren't cold, but rather carried a rare seriousness, and Hei Xiazi obediently stopped moving.

"Hold him down for me," Zhang Qiling said to Wu Xie, the short knife in his hand already disinfected. Wu Xie was about to step forward when Hei Xiazi waved his hand: "No need, let the mute do it." He looked at Zhang Qiling, a slight smile playing on his lips, "He'll hold him down lightly, I'm afraid Third Master will go too far." Zhang Qiling didn't speak, but walked to the bedside and sat down, gently pressing his left hand on Hei Xiazi's shoulder—just enough to hold him in place without causing him pain. When the tip of the knife sliced ​​through the blackened, rotting flesh, Hei Xiazi's body tensed violently, cold sweat instantly soaking his forehead, but he didn't cry out in pain, only gripping Zhang Qiling's right hand tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Zhang Qiling's movements didn't stop, but they were slower than before. As he bent down to tend to the wound, he could see Hei Xiazi's Adam's apple moving, clearly in great pain. So he freed his fingertips and gently touched Hei Xiazi's temples—a gesture Hei Xiazi used to relieve his headaches back in the dungeon. Now, the roles were reversed. Hei Xiazi paused for a moment, then loosened his grip on Zhang Qiling's hand slightly. "Almost there," Zhang Qiling whispered, the first words of comfort he uttered that evening.

As the medicinal powder was being applied, Hei Xiazi finally couldn't help but groan. Zhang Qiling looked up at him and noticed that his eyes were closed, his eyelashes trembling. So he slowed down, using his fingertips to spread the powder evenly, and then wrapped it tightly with a bandage—when he wrapped the bandage around for the third time, he deliberately left some looseness so as not to hurt him. "All done." Zhang Qiling put away his tools and was about to get up when Hei Xiazi grabbed his wrist.

“Dumb,” Black Bear’s voice was soft, still weak from just recovering, “Is the poison from that blood corpse in the Queen Mother of the West’s Palace related to the Zhang family’s curse?” Zhang Qiling fell silent. He remembered the “life-bound jade curse” the old tomb keeper had mentioned, and the jade pendant in his pocket engraved with the Queen Mother of the West’s totem. His fingertips unconsciously caressed Black Bear’s wrist—there was an old scar there, left from when he helped him fend off Chen Pi A Si’s men. “I don’t know,” he said honestly, “but I will find a solution.”

Hei Xiazi smiled, opened his eyes, and looked at him: "I believe you." These words were spoken softly, yet they felt like a stone falling into Zhang Qiling's heart. He didn't speak, but simply reached out and wiped the sweat from Hei Xiazi's forehead with his sleeve—the movement was very gentle, as if afraid of breaking something. Wu Xie and Xie Yuchen stood at the door, watching this scene, and quietly withdrew, leaving them alone.

Late at night, the living room lights were off, except for an emergency light in the bedroom. Zhang Qiling sat by the bed, keeping watch. Hei Xiazi slept soundly, but still instinctively leaned closer to him, placing his hand on Zhang Qiling's leg. Zhang Qiling looked down at him, remembering how Hei Xiazi had leaned on his shoulder and said, "You owe me a life," in the desert during the day, and how he had restrained himself while treating Hei Xiazi's wounds. Something tugged at his heartstrings—an emotion he rarely showed, one he himself didn't quite understand, only knowing that he didn't want Hei Xiazi to suffer any more pain.

He took out the jade pendant from his pocket and examined its patterns by the light of the emergency lamp. Suddenly, Hei Xiazi rolled over, gripping the jade pendant tighter, and muttered, "Don't go..." Zhang Qiling quickly put the jade pendant away, gently patted his back, and said as if coaxing a child, "I'm here." Hei Xiazi calmed down, and his breathing gradually became steady.

Just then, a very faint car engine sound came from outside the window. Zhang Qiling instantly became alert, got up and walked to the window, pulling back a corner of the curtain—a black sedan was parked downstairs, its windows tinted dark, obscuring the people inside. Inside the car, a man in a black trench coat picked up the phone, his voice low: "They're in the old building. Black Bear's drugs have been brought under control."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a gentle yet cold voice: "Jude Kao's remaining forces have their eyes on them. Don't interfere. Let Chief Zhang and his men stay put for a few days. Once the curse on the jade pendant tightens... then we'll make our move." The man replied "Yes," hung up the phone, and the black sedan drove away silently, disappearing into the night.

Zhang Qiling stood by the window, his fingertips clenched so tightly they turned white. He knew that what the other party wanted wasn't just the jade pendant, but also him, and Hei Xiazi. He turned to look at Hei Xiazi on the bed; the man was still asleep, a faint smile playing on his lips. So he walked back to the bedside, sat down again, and gently placed his left hand on Hei Xiazi's—this time, he gripped it tightly, as if to confirm that this person was right beside him.

The real undercurrents are never the howls of wolves in the desert, but rather hidden in the city's night, lurking in unseen corners, surging towards them. But Zhang Qiling is not afraid; as long as Hei Xiazi is still around, he can shield them from all trouble.