Fan Zhiyi sighed: "If your injury doesn't heal quickly, what if you encounter ghosts or monsters again? I can't defeat them."
Bing Nandong seemed a little hesitant, but still insisted: "Even so, I can kill them with one sword."
"Yes, yes, you're the best."
Bing Nandong glared at him and turned away.
"Then I'll come over?" Fan Zhiyi took a tentative step forward. Seeing Bing Nandong didn't respond, he walked up behind him and half-knelt. Just as he was about to take out the medicine, he heard Bing Nandong say, "Use this."
It was another box of plasters. Fan Zhiyi couldn't help but feel surprised: "Do you always carry so many medicines when you go out? This bag of yours is really a good thing."
"This is the Qiankun bag. You also have one."
Fan Zhiyi was amused. When he read many novels about cultivating immortals, this kind of bag was called only two names, either Qiankun Bag or Mustard Seed Space. He didn't expect that this novel would also have the same name. Does the author dare to give it a more novel name?
However, it is indeed convenient to have such a thing. You can put those medicine bottles in it, and you can also hide all the spirit stones that Bing Nandong will give him in it in the future.
"Where's mine then?"
"How would I know...hiss." Bing Nandong suddenly cried out in pain, then immediately retracted his cry, gritting his teeth and refusing to make any more sound.
Fan Zhiyi subconsciously stopped his movements and asked, "Did I use too much force?"
Bing Nandong ignored him.
Oh, it’s so difficult for them to have two injured people and a child on this journey.
Because of his limited vision, Fan Zhiyi could only get closer. He suggested going to a place with light, but Bing Nandong refused to do so no matter what. He even felt uncomfortable with Fan Zhiyi's breath on his back.
It seems like even his breathing is wrong now, right?
Fan Zhiyi, fearing he might miss something, smeared the ointment all over his back, then kindly asked, "Can you rub your butt and legs as well? Do you need me to help you with that?"
"You!" Bing Nandong immediately stood up, picked up his sword, wrapped his clothes around it, and quickly moved away from Fan Zhiyi, like a cat with its fur standing on end, his whole body looking ferocious.
If it wasn't so dark around, Fan Zhiyi would have been able to see Bing Nandong's face quickly turning red.
Fan Zhiyi blinked. Wasn't he just expressing his concern and condolences in a normal way? Why such a big reaction?
"You..." Bing Nandong held it in for a long time but couldn't utter a word.
Fan Zhiyi nodded and asked doubtfully: "I..."
"Why are you talking so vulgarly?"
Fan Zhiyi: "..." Vulgar, what's so vulgar about him? Isn't this a normal part? Or is it because this world can't say that?
What is the written word for "butt"? He thought that this world was accustomed to gay marriage and was considered a relatively open-minded place.
With a humanitarian spirit, Fan Zhiyi changed the way he asked: "Do you need my help with your buttocks now?" It felt weird.
These words were so devastating that both sides fell into silence.
Fan Zhiyi felt that silence would become awkward if it continued for too long. Although it was already starting to feel awkward, he still decided to be the first to speak: "It's nothing, actually. When you were unconscious last night, I was the one who applied the medicine all over your body."
Bing Nandong: "..."
Silence, deathly silence.
Fan Zhiyi saw Bing Nandong retreat a few steps. If it weren't for the venue restrictions, Fan Zhiyi doubted that Bing Nandong could retreat a long way.
Then Bing Nandong took a deep breath, turned his back, walked back to the candlelight and lay down alone. His figure was terrifyingly quiet.
Fan Zhiyi thought about it with his not-so-bright brain, and reviewed what he had said, but still didn't think there was anything wrong. Was he just too thick-skinned?
No, is it really okay if Bingnandong doesn’t take medicine on his butt and legs?
Fan Zhiyi walked over and saw Bing Nandong with his eyes tightly closed and his brows furrowed, pretending to be asleep. He then tiptoed back to his original position. As soon as he sat down, he heard Bing Nandong quickly turn over and face his back to him.
The temperature dropped at night, and the abandoned temple was well ventilated, so it was chilly.
Fortunately, the clothes he wore were quite warm, allowing Fan Zhiyi to close his eyes for a while. However, when it was almost dawn, Fan Zhiyi was too cold to sleep. He opened his eyes and found that Bing Nandong was gone again, leaving only a piece of clothing covering Xiaobao.
There was still the sound of rain outside. Fan Zhiyi just arrived at the door wrapped in clothes and was wailing in the cold wind.
He turned to look at Bing Nandong, who had been sitting by the door for who knows how long. There was a dark circle under his eyes, and he looked much more haggard.
Fan Zhiyi was just about to say a few words of concern when Bing Nandong suddenly stood up and quickly moved to the side to distance himself from Fan Zhiyi.
Fan Zhiyi: "..." Is he that scary?
"Um, are you okay?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Bing Nandong glared at Fan Zhiyi.
Seeing that he wanted to eat him alive, Fan Zhiyi didn't dare to speak for a moment.
No way, brother, I didn’t offend you.
He originally wanted to ask the boy to help him pack his things. These porcelain bottles were difficult to carry around, but he was reluctant to throw them away in case they came in handy in the future.
It was drizzling and the mountain road was already bumpy, and now there were many puddles of water of varying sizes.
Fan Zhiyi doesn't like rainy days, and he doesn't like the damp feeling, especially when his shoes are not waterproof, it's very uncomfortable.
At this moment, he noticed something flying from a distance in the rain.
Then Bing Nandong stretched out his hand and the thing fell into his hand.
Fan Zhiyi looked over curiously and found that it was a thousand paper cranes.
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