Breaking Army - Chapter 13

As the daylight filtered through the window, Xiao Chen’s consciousness drifted back. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt heavy. It took a fair amount of effort to force them open. Today’s morning light was exceptionally piercing, and Xiao Chen instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes, only to find that his arm felt like lead. Nothing felt right.

What was going on?

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a soft cough came out. His throat was parched and stinging. Xiao Chen’s mind moved sluggishly, failing to grasp the situation for a moment.

Forgive His Highness Po Jun; he had never been sick before and simply lacked the experience.

Once his brain cleared a little, his first thought was: Could this be a lingering side effect of the poison? It was only after he ruled that out that he remembered what Mu Qing had mentioned last night about being careful not to catch a cold.

Xiao Chen realized belatedly: So, I’m sick?

He let out a breath and slowly sat up from the bed. He felt miserable, his body limp and weak. It wasn’t painful, but he felt a stifling discomfort in his chest. Xiao Chen hated pain, but he disliked the feeling of physical weakness even more. It made him feel as though he had lost control over his own body, leaving him unsettled.

As he sat there, a knock came from the door. There was no voice, but based on the shadow against the wood, it was Mu Qing. Xiao Chen said, “Come in.”

The moment he spoke that single word, his throat spiked with pain, and his voice came out raspy.

Mu Qing entered properly, likely intending to give a polite greeting at the door, but his expression shifted the moment he saw Xiao Chen’s face. He hurried to the bedside, his hands moving anxiously in sign language: You are sick.

Xiao Chen tilted his head. “You can tell just by looking?”

Xiao Chen only said that because he couldn’t see his own reflection. Mu Qing instinctively reached out, but halfway there, he seemed to remember something and pulled back. He gestured: Brother, may I check the temperature of your forehead?

Temperature? Xiao Chen usually didn’t like people getting close to him, yet for some reason, he found himself nodding in agreement. Mu Qing’s hand pressed against his forehead. It was slightly cool and quite comfortable. Upon feeling the heat, Mu Qing’s expression darkened. He withdrew his hand and gestured worriedly: You have a fever. You must have caught a chill last night.

“I have a fever?” Actually, Xiao Chen felt a bit cold, though he did seem to be breaking out in a thin sweat. He looked down and tugged at his collar. His inner robes were loose and comfortable, and the slight tug revealed the elegant curve of his collarbone. Mu Qing’s eyes darted away, and he awkwardly lowered his hand, casting his gaze down, not daring to look further.

Xiao Chen didn’t notice the subtle reaction. He simply said, “It shouldn’t be a problem.” It seemed the damage to his physical foundation was more serious than he had imagined, though he wouldn’t have to worry once his cultivation was restored.

Mu Qing, however, was not at ease: I will ask the innkeeper to brew some medicine and have someone bring hot water to your room. You should wash up, then eat and take your medicine.

He was certainly a considerate one. Xiao Chen thought back to the “Ghost Face” in his dream, that brat hadn’t been nearly as sweet. He didn’t know why seeing Mu Qing made him think of that boy. He had lived for too long; some old friends and memories were buried so deep that it took a specific spark to dig them out of his mind.

“The medicine isn’t necessary. I have a strong constitution, I might be better in a moment.” Besides, mortal medicine might not even work. Mu Qing listened, thought for a moment, and then nodded. He gestured: Then I will have the kitchen boil some ginger soup. Drink that first and see how you feel.

Xiao Chen deciphered the gestures: Ginger… water? Or soup? What is that for? Xiao Chen didn’t ask; he simply gave a profound nod as if he understood perfectly. As Mu Qing went downstairs, Xiao Chen began to pull himself together. Mu Qing probably intended to bring the medicine and food to the room, but once Xiao Chen finished dressing, he pushed the door open and walked out. Though he felt unwell, he wasn’t incapacitated. Why stay cooped up in a room?

There weren’t many people in the inn at this hour, and the staff were idle. The boss took one look at Xiao Chen and hurriedly looked down, not daring to stare. He thought to himself: This young master surely doesn’t know what he looks like right now!

Xiao Chen’s cheeks were flushed with a sickly heat, blooming like peach blossoms. His eyes, usually clear as autumn water, were now misty from the fever, looking even more radiant. Some people loved the sight of a cold, high-altitude snow-peak falling into the mortal dust. Seeing an immortal suddenly within reach, their untouchable nature turned soft and vulnerable, was enough to evoke a deep sense of pity in anyone.

Faced with Xiao Chen in this state, people either didn’t dare to look or were so stunned they couldn’t turn away. The innkeeper personally went over to pour him a cup of tea. “Is the young master ill? Your little brother just ordered the staff to brew some medicine, you’ll have to wait a bit. Please take care of yourself. Lately, the news of the plague in Ruoshui Town has everyone on edge. The city’s best doctors have all gone there.”

Xiao Chen felt a bit better after moving around. He held the teacup. “A plague?”

“Yes. It’s hard to say exactly when it started, maybe a few days ago. The town has been sealed off by the government. The City Lord is very anxious. During the Lantern Festival yesterday, many people were praying for Ruoshui Town!”

Xiao Chen nodded and ordered some breakfast. His throat was uncomfortable, so he didn’t eat much, finishing only four bowls. Just as he set down his chopsticks, Mu Qing arrived from the kitchen carrying a bowl. He had personally watched over the ginger soup as it brewed.

Xiao Chen looked at the contents of the bowl. The smell was pungent, and he couldn’t help but lean back, looking at Mu Qing. “This is that… ginger soup?”

Mu Qing set the bowl on the table and nodded: Ginger soup. Try it. If there’s no improvement, we’ll have to see a doctor for real medicine.

So, it counted as medicine? Xiao Chen had taken medicine before, but spiritual pills always smelled heavenly and made one feel refreshed just by sniffing them. This bowl of soup could be smelled from a mile away, making people want to keep their distance. He was about to refuse when the waiter cleaning the tables chimed in cheerfully, helping Mu Qing out. “A bowl of ginger soup is plenty for a common cold. This young lad stayed right by the stove, never leaving its side. Young master, your brother is very devoted!”

Hearing this, Xiao Chen swallowed the excuses he had prepared. He picked up the bowl. Since he had the Purple Lotus in his soul, he wasn’t afraid of being poisoned or assassinated, so he dared to eat or drink anything. It wouldn’t kill him, anyway. The ginger soup hit his tongue with an incredible spiciness. While strong liquor only burned the throat, this stuff shot straight into his nose and mouth. Xiao Chen forced himself to drain the bowl, then turned his head and began to cough.

Mu Qing patted his back gently. Xiao Chen’s eyes were rimmed with red from the stinging heat, but surprisingly, his chest felt much clearer.

The waiter wiped the table. “Sigh, speaking of sickness, I wonder when the plague in Ruoshui Town will get better.”

He hadn’t heard a word about this for the past two days, yet the moment he got sick, all he heard about was this plague. At a nearby table, someone nodded solemnly. “Indeed. Word is, this plague might have been brought on by some evil spirit!”

“Yes, yes, I heard that too! They say someone in Ruoshui Town saw it at night, a skeleton glowing with eerie ghost-fire! They fell ill the next day, and that’s how the plague spread!”

Xiao Chen listened while coughing. He knew there were spirits that caused disease, but none of them looked like that. It sounded like hearsay, and it was hard to tell how much of it was true. However, if it really was a malevolent spirit, he might go take a look. He was idle in the mortal world anyway.

“Cough, cough!”

He coughed twice more, settling down. Mu Qing poured him a cup of water, hesitated, and then gestured: Brother, why don’t you go back to your room to rest?

“Hmm? I’m not tired right now. No need to stay in the room.”

Mu Qing thought to himself that this wasn’t what he meant. He pursed his lips, his gaze drifting unintentionally across Xiao Chen’s face and then over to the people peeking from around the room. The color in his eyes darkened: he did not like the way these people were looking at Xiao Chen.

Xiao Chen was either unaware or simply didn’t care. He listened to the idle gossip for a while longer and decided to rest for one more night. Once his body felt better, he would head to Ruoshui Town.

However, the plan changed again.

Contrary to expectations, Xiao Chen’s condition worsened the next day. The comfort he felt the previous day seemed like an illusion. His head throbbed with a burning fever, and he could barely get up. Had it not been for the loud commotion outside, he might not have woken up at all.

Xiao Chen struggled to rise. His breath was unusually hot, yet his hands and feet were ice-cold. He forced himself to go out and see: the sound was unmistakably the clashing of blades. Even in sleep, he could distinguish the ring of metal.

Xiao Chen opened the door just in time to see Mu Qing kick someone down the stairs. A group of soldiers had already rolled to the floor below. Mu Qing stood alone at the top of the stairs, his elegant figure radiating an aura of “one man holding the pass against ten thousand.”

He really is a good prospect, Xiao Chen thought. He glanced at the frantic Ming Feiyi standing among the crowd below and asked, “What is happening?”

As soon as he spoke, he realized his voice was extremely strained, and the stinging in his throat had intensified. Mu Qing turned to look at him, his fierce expression softening instantly. He hurried to Xiao Chen’s side, his eyes filled with worry and panic. Xiao Chen knew the boy could tell he wasn’t recovered, so he gave Mu Qing’s back a reassuring pat. He gestured toward the floor below. Mu Qing understood and answered his previous question: Ming Feiyi has slandered us. He brought officials to arrest us.

Slander? Slander about what? That they received too many sachets during the Lantern Festival and were being frivolous? Xiao Chen found it amusing. He was quite interested to hear how Ming Feiyi was slandering them.

Ming Feiyi, cowering behind the soldiers, shouted, “Sorcery! It’s sorcery! How else could one person take down so many? If it’s not sorcery, what is it!”

Xiao Chen raised an eyebrow. His raspy voice didn’t stop him from being sharp-tongued. “Just because you can’t lift a finger doesn’t mean everyone in the world is like you. Have you never heard of martial arts? Have you never heard of one man facing a hundred? If you don’t practice martial arts, you should at least read a book.”

Ming Feiyi poked his head out from behind the soldiers in a rage, then shrank back out of fear, acting as if he were invincible as long as he hid. He yelled, “I checked! The plague in Ruoshui Town was discovered right after these two entered the city! The timing is perfect, and look at how they look! If they aren’t mountain demons, what are they? Demons are plaguing the mortal world! Arrest them, and the plague will surely vanish!”

Xiao Chen understood now. So that was the “slander.” He strongly disagreed: Being good-looking makes you a demon? Proportionally speaking, there were fewer beauties among demons than among celestials or devils, once you filtered out the ones who just wore borrowed skins. As for the Star Sovereigns, not a single one was ugly.

To say someone is a demon just because they’re handsome, who are you insulting? Besides, calling Xiao Chen a demon… did this man know who was the one who cut off the head of the former Demon King?

However, Xiao Chen had already intended to visit Ruoshui Town. It was just an unexpected illness that made today a bad time. But since Ming Feiyi had forced the issue to his doorstep, he might as well go with the flow.

Mu Qing couldn’t speak, and these people couldn’t understand sign language. In this situation, it was impossible to have Mu Qing write notes for them to read. The talking still fell to Xiao Chen. Despite his discomfort, he spoke up. “The two of us are traveling far from home and merely passing through. We cannot accept such a heavy accusation as ‘plaguing the world.’ Instead of finding a doctor to treat the sick, you bring a crowd to arrest innocent bystanders. What is it, Young Master Ming? Are you still obsessed with us?”

As Xiao Chen spoke, his eyes held a playful, mocking smile. Looking at someone like that made him nearly impossible to resist. Ming Feiyi swallowed hard, losing his soul for a moment, until the groans of the men on the floor grew louder, snapping him back to reality and reminding him why he was there.

Ming Feiyi grabbed the soldier in front of him, waving his claws like a crab. “The city’s best doctors are all in Ruoshui Town and haven’t cured a thing! The Taoist priest from Qingyun Temple said this was caused by demons and evil spirits! Don’t try to talk your way out of it! Quick, go and arrest them for me!”

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