Chapter 79: Team Up? Like Hell!

After this conflict, the pace of their journey slowed considerably.

The main reason was that, once they had reached the main road, Zhang Shu’s face turned ashen, and he sighed frequently, clearly preoccupied. Of course, the fact that he had just been injured was another factor.

“Let’s tend to your wound first. Take your medicine and rest for a bit—I’ll keep watch,” Xiao Nan said helplessly.

At this moment, he felt more than ever the benefits of a stronger constitution. Someone like Zhang Shu, who was hindered by even a minor injury, could really hold things up. As for himself, after clashing with Han Zhang earlier and suffering a slight internal shock, his own circulation of energy and blood had already healed most of the damage.

“It’s nothing, just some discomfort in my right arm. Once we reach the Meadow of Ten Li, I’ll find a safe spot to take the medicine and rest—it’ll be the same,” Zhang Shu replied, a little embarrassed.

Before they set out, he had boasted about escorting Xiao Nan part of the way, making grand promises in front of his aunt. But in the end, not only had he picked an unreliable team and made enemies, he had also ended up injured, becoming a burden.

“Am I nothing but dead weight?” he thought. Recalling the personalities of Han Zhang and the others, an even darker shadow crossed his mind. Those men were not ones to let things go—if they crossed paths again, there would surely be trouble. He could only hope Xiao Nan wouldn’t be dragged into it as well; otherwise, how could he ever face his aunt again?

Lost in his worries, he answered softly, took a small box from his coat, and swallowed a blue pill. He then opened his backpack, found a jar of ointment, applied it to his right wrist, and sat down to adjust his breathing, dispersing the medicine’s effects. The injury wasn’t too serious, but as it affected his wrist’s tendons, he could hardly summon any strength. It had to be treated.

“You’re worried those men will come back for revenge,” Xiao Nan observed, seeing Zhang Shu’s undisguised dejection. He smiled. “You needn’t worry—they probably won’t make it back to the city alive.”

He spoke lightly, but there was a cold edge to his words. If his instincts weren’t wrong, for him to sense real danger ahead meant the threat was no small thing—certainly nothing he could handle. As for those other men, so unprepared and reckless, their chances of escape were slim to none.

That was why, even when Ge Feipeng had been provoking him earlier, Xiao Nan hadn’t been truly annoyed. What was the point of taking offense at the dead?

“You think they’ll die? Isn’t that a bit much? Though Herb Lake is dangerous, hunting parties pass through often. It’s rare to hear of real accidents,” Zhang Shu protested, opening his eyes in disbelief. “Han Zhang is a seasoned fighter. If there’s danger, he’ll be the first to get his people out.”

Xiao Nan shook his head, unwilling to argue. Experience was valuable, but he’d seen plenty who relied on it to take reckless risks—and succeeded only in getting themselves killed. As the saying went, “the best swimmers drown.” The old ancestors were right.

Conversely, those with less experience kept their distance from peril and had better chances of survival.

“Tell me, why were they so insistent on taking the Herb Lake route? And why did they force us to follow?” Xiao Nan asked.

“Ah, that’s right—it must be the Vitality Grass! I saw that commission posted in the association hall. Someone’s looking to buy that herb and is offering a second-grade Strengthening Pill as a reward,” Zhang Shu suddenly realized. “Of course! Han Zhang is close to breaking through to the second-grade tendon refining stage and needs that pill. It’s worth half a million—he can’t afford it, so he’s set his sights on the herb.”

“Is Vitality Grass so valuable?” Xiao Nan asked, intrigued. He knew little about medicinal herbs—certainly less than these fighters who spent their days at the association. He only recognized a few common ones for blood and energy replenishment.

“It’s definitely valuable—it’s the main ingredient for the second-grade Tendon Refining Pill. You know how it is: ingredients for pills are always in short supply, especially the graded ones. For ordinary fighters, it’s not all that precious. Eaten raw, it boosts energy and blood significantly, but the cold energy is hard to neutralize, so most choose to sell it. You can get three hundred thousand for one stalk, which is decent. But for an alchemist, the price is several times higher.”

“Three hundred thousand,” Xiao Nan muttered. Was that not a lot? But thinking it through, for a fighter, three hundred thousand wasn’t enough to buy a second-grade pill, so it wasn’t life-changing wealth.

In truth, though Zhang Shu claimed it wasn’t particularly precious, the regret in his eyes was plain to see. He was surely thinking that, had he gone with the group, he might have shared in the spoils.

Xiao Nan shook his head, thinking to himself that this blockhead didn’t really believe the road was all that dangerous. How could one declare the path ahead a dead end without having arrived, after walking only a short distance? It would be like pretending to be a fortune-teller.

After a while, their conversation faded into silence. Zhang Shu focused on healing, while Xiao Nan studied the map, planning his route.

About half an hour later, color returned to Zhang Shu’s cheeks, and his breath steadied. He stood, flexed his right wrist, did some chest-opening exercises, and looked pleased—his injury was no longer an impediment.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting. I hope this didn’t delay you…” Zhang Shu’s honest face was full of embarrassment, and he was about to say more when his eyes widened. “What’s that?”

From a distant fork in the road came a rumble, and a cloud of dust rose into the air. Amidst the swirling haze, a figure shot out at lightning speed, feet gouging pits into the earth, sending soil and gravel flying.

“It’s Han Zhang…” Zhang Shu exclaimed in astonishment.

“What are you standing there for? Get off the road and hide!” Xiao Nan barked, grabbing him and running toward a nearby copse.

“Hide? Why?” Zhang Shu was completely confused, his mind reeling from the shout, unable to react immediately.

But in a moment, he understood.

As soon as Han Zhang appeared on the road, he glanced about and, without hesitation, turned and ran straight toward them, shouting as he came, “Help! Zhang Shu, join forces with me and you’ll be well rewarded. Hey, don’t run!”

As the shouts rang out, Zhang Shu’s eyes went wide.

Han Zhang was hardly alone. A long white line undulated behind him like a wave—a massive silver-white python, as thick as a barrel and twenty meters long, surged after him. As it moved, it hissed sharply, the sound piercing their ears.

Most terrifying of all, despite its massive size, the python’s speed was astonishing—faster even than Han Zhang, a peak first-grade fighter. It was almost upon him.

Zhang Shu gasped.

He noticed two human shapes bulging in the python’s neck. “It swallowed two people—could that be Zhou Cheng and Ge Feipeng?” The thought flashed through his mind unbidden.

With Han Zhang fleeing for his life, those two, far weaker, would have had no chance. Their fates needed no further imagination.

They had certainly fed the python, and the beast was still not sated, relentlessly pursuing.

Who knew what Han Zhang’s group had done to provoke such a monster?

In the face of death, even Zhang Shu’s slow mind understood. Han Zhang wasn’t truly seeking help—he was drawing disaster toward them.

By running their way, he hoped they would serve as a distraction, buying him time to escape. Against a fourth-grade beast, even ten of him would be useless. Join forces? Join forces, my foot.