Chapter 017 Li Xiao's Independent Side Story - Obsession (Part Two)
Li Xiao was somewhat shocked to see the Taoist priest fall straight down.
He originally didn't intend to make a move, and in fact, he didn't need to, because it was obvious—though he didn't want to admit it—that the Taoist's cultivation was indeed above his own.
Otherwise, Li Xiao wouldn't have had so much pent-up anger with nowhere to vent it, resorting instead to chopping at doors and trampling on flowers and trees to vent his frustration.
—Heaven knows how long it's been since my sword has seen blood.
But now, Li Xiao is standing on the roof.
Watching as the seemingly arrogant Taoist priest was taken down and bound hand and foot by a group of unskilled mountain villagers with a simple sneak attack, they were ambushed and subdued.
This left Li Xiao puzzled and confused, and at the same time, a deep sense of shame arose from being deceived, mixed with the resentment that had accumulated over the past few days, like dry tinder touching a raging fire, instantly sparking and crackling.
Damn it...
Li Xiao felt a throbbing sensation in his temple, and then he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
—Just because I was angry.
Li Xiao did not reveal his whereabouts, but followed them discreetly.
It's unclear whether they were unwilling to give up, wanting to see if the Taoist had any other tricks up his sleeve, or simply wanted to witness the other's tragic end...
In short, the boy followed the group all the way to a dilapidated courtyard in the suburbs.
The Taoist priest, with his eyes closed and his limbs bound with thick hemp rope, was thrown onto a pile of straw.
Then, his face was lifted up and turned left and right, but he showed no signs of waking up. Then, when they let go, his head went limp and tilted to one side.
"Could that pretty boy be dead?"
"Tsk, what do you mean 'die'? It's still breathing."
"It's all your fault for being so ruthless. If this guy doesn't wake up like this, we'll have to ask the ghosts for gold."
The group chattered incessantly, making quite a racket.
Nevertheless, the Taoist priest kept his head down and remained motionless, seemingly in a deep coma.
Splash—
A bucket of cold water was poured over his head, the water flowing down his wet temples, across his cheeks, and soaking his light-colored robe completely.
Where the water had submerged, the soaked outer shirt clung to the inner shirt, revealing glimpses of flesh beneath. In this not-so-warm weather, it was enough to make one's scalp tingle with cold.
The next instant, the Taoist priest trembled slightly, his pale lips moved slightly, and then his eyes slowly opened, reflecting several excited faces in his empty eyes.
"He's awake! He's really awake!" someone exclaimed.
The scarred man carrying the bucket looked smug.
"Hehe, I told you this trick would work."
As he spoke, he casually tossed the empty wooden bucket aside, squinted, leaned closer to the Taoist priest who had stopped looking around, and asked with a smile about the whereabouts of the gold.
"Gold."
The Taoist priest repeated the other person's words, then calmly asked, "What gold?"
"Gold, of course, is for spending!"
The man next to him shouted, brandishing his weapon and threateningly saying, "Confess honestly, or we'll be ruthless and chop your head off. Let's see what you'll use to play dumb then."
"Hey, we should be more polite to monks."
The scarred man who had spoken earlier stepped forward again to act as a peacemaker.
He first shoved his brother, then looked at the Taoist priest with a forced smile and tried to negotiate politely.
“Master, we brothers are only after money. You just need to be honest and hand over the gold. Then we can go our separate ways. You will save your life, and we will get our help. Wouldn’t that be a win-win situation?”
"Good deeds?"
The Taoist priest lowered his eyes, seemingly lost in thought: "According to what you say, it is indeed a good deed, but unfortunately..."
"It's just a pity?"
"The gold is not with me."
Where is that?
Well—
The Taoist priest pondered for a moment, then suddenly smiled and said, "Didn't you all see? We already bought lunch and compensated for the door panels. If you really want them, just ask the restaurant manager."
The young man spoke so earnestly and sincerely, as if he genuinely believed that what he said was the simplest truth in the world, yet the person in front of him did not understand it.
This kind of sincerity tinged with pity is almost contemptuous.
As expected, upon hearing this, the scar on Scarface's face seemed to suddenly become more ferocious.
Just then, a burst of laughter rang out from the woodshed, as abrupt as a pebble thrown into still water.
"Who? Who's laughing?!"
Scarface couldn't help but look to both sides. Needless to say, the Taoist priest in front of him was not him. The other men looked at each other and said that it was not them.
Scarface immediately became impatient, puffing out his beard and glaring, "If it's not you, and it's not me, then what are you, a ghost?!"
No sooner had he finished speaking than he was struck hard on the head, nearly falling to the ground.
Scarface covered his head and turned to the side where he had been hit, glaring at the short man standing there, who was so frightened that he backed away.
"No, it wasn't me, boss! I didn't do anything, really, you have to believe me!"
Suddenly, as if struck by a thought, the short man quickly pointed at the Taoist priest sitting in the haystack and shouted, "It's him! It must be this Taoist priest causing trouble! He—"
Before he could finish speaking, the man suddenly cried out and bent over.
Then, as if in a chain reaction, one after another, these people were either kicked in the butt or hit on the head.
After a series of howls and wails, a group of bandits swarmed open the woodshed door, and, ignoring the bruises on their heads, staggered and fled in panic towards the outside.
The afterglow of the setting sun shone into the small house, and a figure slowly emerged from the swirling haystacks.
Tall and slender, dressed in a jet-black robe, a pair of emerald eyes looked down at the Taoist priest in the haystack, and a mocking smile played on his red lips beneath the mask.
"Master, it's only been half a day, but you look quite disheveled."
The Taoist priest blinked and quietly observed the newcomer.
His eyelashes were still damp, like dewdrops in early autumn clinging to the thick grass by the lake. Combined with his slightly pale lips, he looked rather pitiful.
"I remember this person used to be quite talkative. What? Could it be that the Taoist priest is so happy to see me that he can't even speak?"
As Li Xiao spoke, she slowly leaned down, her long hair falling between the two of them like swaying light-colored water plants, gently swaying in the air with her breath.
Li Xiao pondered how to deal with this arrogant Taoist priest.
Leaving it here to fend for itself would be too lenient on the other party; now that it's already in our hands...
He was lost in thought and didn't notice that the two of them were getting quite close until the Taoist's voice rang out right next to him.
"that--"
The Taoist priest seems to have something to say; is he begging for mercy?
"Heh," Li Xiao sneered inwardly. It's too late to regret it now, but it's not a bad thing to listen to it anyway.
So, he mercifully raised his hand to signal the other person to continue.
The Taoist opened his mouth, then said with some difficulty, "Could you—"
Can you?
"Leave me, I..."
The Taoist priest's voice grew softer and softer as he spoke, almost like a mosquito's buzz.
Li Xiao couldn't hear him at all. Annoyed, he grabbed the Taoist's wet collar and forced him to look up.
"What the hell are you—"
Before Li Xiao could finish speaking, a sharp sneeze rang out, and his face felt a chill.
I'm sorry.
The Taoist priest, with red eyes and a red nose, stared at the boy with an innocent look on his face: "Your hair made my nose itch, so I couldn't help it."
Li Xiao wiped his face expressionlessly, thinking to himself, "Maybe I should just chop this damn thing up."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
