Chapter 31 Escaping for one's life is no match for Miss Fangru's beautiful face.
Fangru's gaze was instantly drawn to the small bag of saltpeter powder.
She immediately understood that Zhou Ling had endured the beating not only to relieve her immediate danger, but also to steal the key to turning the tide of the battle undetected amidst the chaos of close combat!
"You took that beating... just for this?" Fangru lowered her voice, her tone filled with disbelief, astonishment, and a barely perceptible tremor.
She instantly understood the value of the packet of powder at that moment.
"Just doing it on the spur of the moment." Zhou Ling adjusted his posture despite the pain, his voice remaining steady.
He picked up the bag of powder and began deftly filling the selected hollow grass stems with focused and precise movements, as if the pain on his body did not exist.
He raised his eyes to look at Fangru, his gaze sharp as a knife, a stark contrast to the scars covering his body: "The keyhole is the first choice. If the timing is right, scattering powder and burning oneself would be even more effective."
Fangru immediately understood the ruthless plan behind his calm words. Her heart suddenly raced, not because of fear, but because of the bloody glimmer of hope that suddenly appeared in this desperate situation.
Even under such atrocities, he was able to observe, calculate, and even carry out this precise "theft" with such composure!
“Only by creating chaos can we have our chance.” Zhou Ling’s lips curled into a cold smile, the expression of a hunter that hadn’t faded even in prison. “They think fists are the only rule here; it’s time to change their minds.”
He paused, then continued, each word clear and calm: "This opportunity may only come once."
Fangru finally understood.
This is by no means a simple act of forbearance or a cry for help, but a fierce counterattack that puts one in a desperate situation and then allows one to survive!
She watched Zhou Ling, who remained composed even in his disheveled state, and saw the wounds he had sustained while carrying out his plan. Her feelings were extremely complicated.
She opened her mouth, but she could never say "I won't thank you" a second time.
In the end, she simply turned her head sharply, her voice hard but with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor: "...If a large group of people comes, we still won't be able to escape this trick."
Zhou Ling chuckled softly, aggravating his wound and causing him to gasp almost imperceptibly, but his tone was unwaveringly resolute: "Then let's take a gamble. Gamble that they'll underestimate us, gamble that we... aren't meant to die here."
He handed Fangru a blade of grass filled with saltpeter powder, his eyes deep: "Dare you?"
Fangru looked into his eyes, which seemed to devour everything yet also gave endless hope, and then looked at the small piece of hay that carried life. Without the slightest hesitation, she took it.
Their fingertips inevitably touched again, but this time, it brought not an awkward tingling sensation, but a resolute, scalding heat of fighting side by side.
Zhou Ling moved swiftly and quickly poured the saltpeter powder into the depths of the lock cylinder through the hollow hay.
Then, without hesitation, he tore off his already tattered hem, divided the fabric into two pieces, and handed one piece to Fangru.
Fangru took the strip of cloth, a hint of confusion flashing in her eyes: "What does this mean?"
"Just in case." Zhou Ling continued folding his cloth strip in half, his voice low and clear, "If the lock breaks, it will make quite a commotion, but the entrance is narrow, and the Baiyang Society members will not dare to break in rashly."
He raised his eyes, his gaze sharp as he looked at the door, as if he could see through the wooden planks and foresee the scene outside.
"They would most likely throw in a 'wild miasma' first, a smoke ball made of sulfur, saltpeter and poisonous herbs. It was pungent and choking, and would make people's eyes water and their strength disappear instantly, forcing us to escape on our own."
He demonstrated how to cover his mouth and nose with a strip of cloth and tie it tightly behind his head: "At that time, covering your mouth and nose with this will not completely protect you, but at least it will hold you off for a while and prevent you from being slaughtered."
Fangru immediately understood his intention.
This is not simply about protection, but about buying a chance to regain composure in the face of the impending close combat.
She said no more, and following his example, tied the strip of cloth tightly, revealing only a pair of clear but determined eyes as she looked at the wooden door that was about to become a battlefield.
"Ready?" Zhou Ling's voice came through the cloth, slightly muffled, yet carrying a reassuring power.
He slightly bent over, like a cheetah poised to pounce, his eyes fixed on the door, waiting for the inevitable explosion and the ensuing bloodshed.
As dusk fell, the light inside the woodshed grew increasingly dim, with only a few rays of the setting sun filtering through the cracks, cutting out beams of light that swirled with dust.
Heavy footsteps, accompanied by rude complaints, approached from afar.
"Damn it, I have to make a trip just to deliver food to two prisoners..."
A henchman carrying two rough bowls walked out of the woodshed, cursing and swearing.
Without any suspicion, he inserted the iron key into the lock and twisted it hard.
"boom!!"
A deafening explosion suddenly erupted!
A blinding orange-red flame shot out from the lock cylinder, and shattered metal pieces and wood chips sprayed out like a torrential rain!
The henchman could only let out half a scream before the enormous impact sent him flying, crashing heavily to the ground several feet away. His face was a bloody mess, and he groaned in pain, the bowls and plates in his hands shattering.
Silence fell instantly outside the door.
Immediately following was another terrified scream: "It's blown up! The lock is blown up! It's a trap! Quick! Call for help!!"
The other two cult members, who had been dozing nearby, were terrified by the sudden explosion and scrambled away, their footsteps echoing in the distance.
Inside the woodshed, Zhou Ling and Fang Ru exchanged a glance, holding their breath.
The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and blood, and the tense atmosphere was almost tangible.
Soon, a tidal wave of chaotic footsteps and angry roars surged in, and the flickering torchlight outside the door cast grotesque and distorted shadows.
"Those inside are up to no good! Throw 'Oblivion Poison'! Smoke them to death!" a rough, hoarse voice roared.
The next second, several dark earthenware jars were lit and thrown in through the shattered door.
The earthenware pot shattered on the ground, instantly releasing a large amount of thick, viscous, grayish-green smoke with a hissing sound. The smoke carried a nauseating, pungent stench and spread rapidly like a living venomous snake, devouring the limited space and air in the woodshed.
Visibility plummeted, to the point where you could barely see your hand in front of your face.
Almost the instant the smoke rose, Zhou Ling and Fang Ru simultaneously covered their mouths and noses tightly with cloths.
Fangru's heart was pounding in her chest, each breath carrying the acrid smell of smoke, and her palms were covered in cold sweat.
"Bang!" The door was suddenly kicked open.
Several members of the White Sun Cult wore specially made "smoke masks," masks made of dark leather and thick cotton soaked in medicinal liquid, with thin mica flakes embedded in the eyes, making them look like faceless ghosts in the smoke.
Armed with steel knives, they carefully formed a makeshift formation and cautiously made their way in.
The thick smoke also obstructed their vision.
Just as the leader was struggling to determine the direction, a dark figure suddenly sprang up from the side of the door like a cheetah and launched an attack!
Zhou Ling's movements were so fast that he was just a blur!
Instead of swinging his sword directly, he splashed the saltpeter powder he had prepared earlier onto the two men in front of him!
The grayish-white powder instantly enveloped their heads, faces, and shoulders, even seeping into the gaps in their smoke hoods, causing them to cough violently and completely distort their movements.
"Attack!" The leader of the opposing side shouted in a mix of shock and rage, and swung his knife at the dark figure.
Zhou Ling neither dodged nor evaded, but instead fiercely blocked with the steel knife he had just seized!
"Clang!"
The two swords clashed violently, bursting into a dazzling shower of sparks!
These sparks, as if brought to life, landed precisely on the front of the cultist's shirt, which was covered in saltpeter dust.
"Pfft! Boom!"
The saltpeter powder ignited instantly, erupting into a scorching flame that quickly engulfed his clothes and hair!
"Aaaaaah! Help me! I'm burning to death!!"
A piercing scream, inhuman and agonizing, instantly tore through the smoke. The cultist was transformed into a man of fire, dancing wildly and howling in agony. Overwhelmed by fear and pain, he lost all reason and stumbled out of the woodshed like a headless fly, rolling and thrashing on the ground in agony.
This hellish scene terrified the other intruders, causing them to freeze involuntarily for a moment.
Amidst the thick smoke, the glint of blades flashed once more!
Like a ghost, Zhou Ling took advantage of the enemy's momentary panic and impaired vision, his steel blade slicing through the smoke with precision and ruthlessness, parrying and slashing!
Each clash of metal sent sparks flying, and each groan and scream signaled the loss of yet another enemy.
From beginning to end, he precisely protected Fangru in the safest corner behind him. His figure appeared exceptionally tall in the thick smoke and firelight. Every step he took seemed to be precisely calculated, carving out a small space for respite in the midst of a desperate situation.
Fangru leaned against the cold, rough earthen wall, and through her blurred vision and acrid smoke, she watched the figure who had shielded her from all the blades amidst the chaos and danger. Listening to his steady breathing and the painful cries of the enemy, her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode. It was a complex emotion that mixed extreme fear, the relief of surviving a catastrophe, and an indescribable shock.
The thick smoke inside the woodshed had not yet dissipated. The remaining members of the White Sun Cult outside the door saw their companions die or be wounded in an instant, and were also terrified by the eerie flames. For a moment, they dared not go forward.
Zhou Ling would not let this fleeting opportunity slip by.
He brandished his steel knife, which hummed as he spoke, his eyes as cold as an icy pool: "Stay close to me!"
Having said that, he moved with lightning speed and rushed towards the door!
The blade flashed in his hand like a silver streak, precisely parrying the incoming weapon. Then, with a backhand flick, a follower screamed and staggered backward, clutching his arm.
Another person tried to ambush Fangru from the flank, but Zhou Ling seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He turned around and kicked Fangru hard in the chest, sending him flying. Fangru crashed into the wall with a thud.
The process of rushing out of the door was incredibly fast.
Zhou Ling held a knife in one hand to defend against the enemy, while his other hand held Fangru's wrist tightly. The force was so great that she could not break free, yet he skillfully guided her to avoid all fatal attacks.
Fangru felt dizzy and disoriented, surrounded by the sounds of clashing weapons, the roars and screams of the enemy, and her own deafening heartbeat.
He practically dragged and carried her out of that suffocating woodshed.
However, the scene before her eyes after rushing out of the woodshed made Fangru gasp in shock.
The two tore off the cloth.
She had thought she was locked up in a residential area, but what she saw now was a desolate and dilapidated empty house, which looked like a silent ghost under the pale moonlight.
Further away, there was a dense, seemingly endless forest, where the night wind blew, bringing with it the sound of the forest and a biting chill.
"Don't stand there!" Zhou Ling shouted, pulling her along without hesitation as they rushed into the dark woods.
Behind them, the Baiyang Society camp was in an uproar. The cacophony of voices and the ever-growing light of torches quickly converged, and shouts and orders to search were clearly audible.
"They ran into the woods!"
"Quick! Light the torches! Grab them!"
The cold night wind whipped against her cheeks as Fang Rushen ran shakily through the rugged woodland, her breath coming in short gasps and her lungs burning as if on fire.
She eventually ran out of energy and her speed gradually decreased.
Zhou Ling always ran half a step ahead of her, holding her hand tightly, almost dragging her along.
Sensing her hesitation, he didn't turn around, his voice slightly panting from running, yet still retaining that infuriating sarcasm: "What? Where's the strength you had when you were glaring at me in the woodshed? Now you're as weak as a shrimp?"
Fangru was so angry she wanted to shake off his hand, but she was too exhausted and could only retort between breaths, "You...you...after being beaten up...you can still run...like a wild donkey..."
“It’s better than some people,” he said, deftly dodging a sideways branch while pulling her close to prevent her from tripping. “They have all that strength…and all they know how to do is…curse their savior.”
"Who needs your help!"
Fangru was stubborn, but she stumbled.
Zhou Ling used his arm to lift her almost up, his tone full of undisguised disdain: "Tsk, troublesome. I should have just let them take you away, so you wouldn't be a burden to me."
"Then let go!" Fangru said angrily.
"Shut up! Save your energy for running away!" Zhou Ling snapped, not letting go but gripping her even tighter, pulling her into a denser thicket of bushes.
"You...you slow down!" Fangru complained breathlessly as her skirt got caught on the thorns. "My skirt is going to be torn to shreds!"
Zhou Ling didn't turn her head, but her hand deftly used the tip of her knife to cut off the thorns that were hooked. Her tone was cold: "You're about to lose your life, and you're still thinking about your dress? Miss Shen is indeed extraordinary."
"You!" Fangru was furious, but her foot slipped on a slippery tree root and she almost fell.
Zhou Ling tightened his grip on her arm, pulling her steady again, and said with disdain, "Watch where you're going. Or are you planning to use your face to clear a path for the pursuers behind us?"
"It's smarter than you using your back to block a punch!" Fangru couldn't help but retort. Recalling how he had just taken the attack head-on, she felt a strange tightness in her chest, but she wouldn't let it go. "At least my face is still presentable!"
"Oh?" Zhou Ling seemed to chuckle softly in the darkness, pulling her nimbly around a depression. "That's true. After all, I'm all bruised and battered now, and I certainly can't compare to Miss Fangru's beauty, even when we're running for our lives."
Fangru really wanted to kick him: "Zhou Ling! Shut up and just lead the way!!"
"Okay." He readily agreed and indeed remained quiet for a moment.
Just when Fangru thought he had finally calmed down, he slowly added, "As long as you don't trip over yourself again, it'll save me some trouble."
"..."
Fangru decided never to speak to him again, at least until she was killed by the pursuers or angered to death by him, she would hold her breath for now.
Their figures were quickly swallowed up by the dark forest, leaving only their rapid breathing and a faint, unspoken dependence that Fangru was unwilling to admit.
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