After all the thugs had fled, Bai Zhao turned around and helped Chu Xingxi up from the ground.
Bai Zhao didn’t say a word, while Chu Xingxi cautiously watched his expression. Suddenly, he grabbed Bai Zhao’s arm and said, “Could you… please help me look for the little white rabbit?”
Chu Xingxi felt like his mind was a bit muddled, so the moment Bai Zhao turned his gaze toward him, he immediately fell silent.
What was he thinking? Asking Zhou Mingyu to help him find the little white rabbit? He should be thankful he didn’t turn that little white rabbit into a roasted rabbit head!
Bai Zhao helped Chu Xingxi into the living room. The moment his back touched the bed board, a wave of pain hit him, causing him to grimace, though he held back from crying out.
“Alright, just lie on your stomach,” Bai Zhao said.
Compared to his back, Chu Xingxi’s front hadn’t suffered much damage, making lying face down on the bed board the most comfortable posture.
After settling Chu Xingxi in, Bai Zhao went back out to the living room. The little white rabbit Chu Xingxi mentioned must have been Yuebao.
“Feinu, where is Yuebao?” Bai Zhao asked Feinu directly.
Feinu led Bai Zhao to where Yuebao was. Yuebao had apparently been kicked; the fur on his stomach was covered in grime, and he was curled up in a ball beneath a withered tree.
“Yuebao.” Bai Zhao’s hand rested on Yuebao’s white fur, and a pale blue fluorescent light flowed from his palm into Yuebao’s body. Yuebao’s injuries slowly healed, and he slowly opened his eyes. “Immortal Lord.”
Bai Zhao didn’t rush to ask what had happened. Instead, he scooped Yuebao up in his arms, carried him into the living room, and placed him right beside Chu Xingxi.
Seeing Yuebao, Chu Xingxi finally set his mind at ease. Earlier, when those thugs came looking for trouble, the little white rabbit had used its tiny, insignificant body to stand in front of him, only to be kicked far away.
If the little white rabbit had actually died because of that, he really would have felt guilty for the rest of his life.
Bai Zhao placed Yuebao in the living room and stepped out of the room without saying a word. He had already done many things today that did not befit his identity. To avoid arousing Chu Xingxi’s suspicion, he decided to go out for a while. Coincidentally, there was no medicinal ointment left at home, so he needed to go to Madam Yang’s place to get some.
Chu Xingxi tilted his head, watching Bai Zhao’s retreating figure as he walked further and further away. He raised a hand to stroke Yuebao, feeling a whirlwind of complex emotions in his heart.
Stepping over the debris scattered across the courtyard, Bai Zhao felt a twinge of curiosity. Why were the pots and pans from the kitchen and the clothes from the living room scattered all over the place? Could it be that those thugs hadn’t just hurt Chu Xingxi, but had also turned the entire house upside down?
Madam Yang’s house wasn’t far. After walking for the duration of an incense stick, Bai Zhao arrived at her doorstep. Compared to Bai Zhao’s dilapidated home, Madam Yang’s place looked like a proper house. With evening approaching, Madam Yang was busy in the kitchen, and the mild aroma of cooking drifted out from inside, making Bai Zhao feel a bit hungry.
A young boy ran out from the house, but upon seeing Bai Zhao, immediately bolted in the opposite direction, his eyes filled with disgust.
It seemed the original owner’s reputation was truly abysmal, to the point that even a child loathed him.
However, Bai Zhao didn’t care much about other people’s opinions. He stood at the front gate and called out Madam Yang’s name toward the inside.
“Coming!” Hearing the call, Madam Yang emerged from the kitchen. “Ah-Yu, what is it?”
“Do you have any medicinal ointment at home? I’d like to borrow some,” Bai Zhao said.
In Zhou Mingyu’s vocabulary, “borrowing” meant “taking as a gift,” and anything borrowed was never returned. But Madam Yang didn’t mind this. After repeatedly agreeing, she went into her living room and brought out a bamboo basket. “It’s all in here. Take it and use what you need.”
“Thank you, Auntie Yang,” Bai Zhao accepted the basket and politely thanked her.
“It’s nothing.” Madam Yang walked around Bai Zhao, inspecting him. His clothes were neat and she didn’t see any wounds on him. “Who got hurt?”
“My wife,” Bai Zhao replied.
Madam Yang’s mind was put at ease—thankfully, it wasn’t Bai Zhao who had fallen ill. After explaining the usage of each medicine to Bai Zhao, she urged him to hurry back.
When he returned home, Chu Xingxi was still awake, blinking his eyes as he watched Bai Zhao return.
Bai Zhao placed the basket by the bedside and nudged Yuebao a bit deeper inward. “I’ll apply the external medicine for you first.”
Since all the injuries were on his back, he couldn’t apply the medicine himself and needed someone else’s help.
Autumn winds blew past the window in gusts. Listening to the sound of his own heartbeat, Chu Xingxi buried his face in the pillow and murmured muffledly, “Thank you.”
Hearing those words, Bai Zhao’s hand froze mid-motion as he prepared to lift the clothing. The corners of his lips curved upward into a very pleasant smile.
Once the blood had dried, the fabric stuck tightly to the wounds on his back, and pulling it away forcefully would cause excruciating pain. In this situation, trying to completely peel the clothes off Chu Xingxi’s body would be extremely difficult. However, if he cut the clothes into pieces, it would be much simpler.
What was a piece of clothing compared to a person? Bai Zhao immediately decided to cut the clothes away.
“Tearing the clothes will hurt a bit, bear with it,” Bai Zhao said.
Chu Xingxi nodded. Although his back hurt terribly, compared to the suffering he endured in his past life, this pain was hardly worth mentioning.
Bai Zhao furrowed his brow; Chu Xingxi’s injuries were even more severe than he had imagined. Nearly his entire back was covered in blood, with not a single patch of healthy skin left.
After completely stripping away the fabric, Bai Zhao first washed the wounds with water to clear out any sand and grit before applying the medicinal ointment.
Bai Zhao’s movements were gentle. Aside from the sharp pain when the clothes were initially torn away, Chu Xingxi didn’t feel much pain afterward.
“There’s also oral medication; you can take it after you’ve eaten later.” Bai Zhao put the lid back on the ointment container and placed it back into the basket, strictly adhering to the principle of returning everything right where it came from.
That evening, after Chu Xingxi took his medicine, Bai Zhao let him rest.
With some free time, Bai Zhao finally cleared away the scattered items in the courtyard.
Some ceramic bowls had broken, adding insult to injury for an already impoverished household. Bai Zhao thought that tomorrow he might need to go harvest some more incense money; short-term funds could only be acquired this way. Once he got past the immediate crisis, he would go find an honest job.
In the dead of night, only the occasional cry of a bird echoed outside the window. Amidst the stillness, Bai Zhao was woken up by a wave of heat.
There was a heat source on his arm, continuously radiating warmth toward him.
Bai Zhao turned his head to look—it was Chu Xingxi running a fever.
Shoemakers stick to their lasts; Bai Zhao was not a deity versed in medicine, and he was completely at a loss for this situation.
“Xingxi? Xingxi?” Bai Zhao gently patted Chu Xingxi, but Chu Xingxi gave no response at all.
Mortals were notoriously fragile; a simple fever could easily claim their lives. Bai Zhao had descended to correct the plotline, not to cause someone’s death.
He immediately decided to take Chu Xingxi to the medical clinic in town.
Bai Zhao hoisted Chu Xingxi onto his back. Yuebao tried to get up and tag along, but Bai Zhao pushed him back down. You’re an injured rabbit yourself; tagging along is just asking for trouble, isn’t it?
Dozily, Chu Xingxi opened his eyes. He only felt the wind whistling past his ears, stinging his face. Unconsciously, he buried his face into the crook of Bai Zhao’s shoulder, and a scent of homespun cloth wafted into his nasal cavity. Before he could process it further, the high fever dragged him back into unconsciousness.
Bai Zhao moved swiftly through the small mountain trails. With the night deep and no one out and about, it provided a convenient cover.
At this hour, the city gates had long since closed. A small leaf-shaped boat suddenly manifested beneath Bai Zhao’s feet, carrying a faint glow that lifted him right over the city wall.
“Hey! You…” The city guard, startled by the sudden apparition, didn’t even have time to cry out before Bai Zhao used an immortal art to lull him into a slumber. Bai Zhao moved as if walking through an empty realm.
There was a curfew in the city, and all the shops were closed. Bai Zhao found a store hanging a pharmacy sign and knocked on the door.
After knocking for a few minutes, someone finally opened the door—an old woman.
“What is the matter with you all?” The old woman had heavy dark circles under her eyes, looking as though she hadn’t rested in a long time.
“My wife has developed a fever. I wonder if your physician might take a look,” Bai Zhao said, well aware that disturbing someone this late was truly impolite. He added some polite remarks: “I know a late-night visit is unreasonable, but there is an urgent reason. I can pay extra for the consultation fee, I just hope my wife can be cured.”
The old woman shook her head powerlessly. “Even if I wanted to have my wife examined, there’s nothing I can do. My old man…” Before she finished her sentence, she let out a heavy sigh. “They say a healer cannot heal themselves; my old man can barely protect his own life right now, you’d better seek help elsewhere.” The old woman started to close the door, but Bai Zhao blocked it with his hand.
“Could you tell me briefly what happened to the physician?” Bai Zhao asked.
“A few days ago he went out on a house call, and ever since he came back, he has been in a deep sleep, growing thinner and thinner. We’ve invited every doctor in the city, and they all just say his blood and Qi are blocked, there’s no saving him, and told me to prepare for his funeral.” As she spoke, tears welled up in the old woman’s eyes again.
“You said he is in a deep sleep?” Bai Zhao caught the crucial keyword.
According to the script, the demon that was supposed to appear only in spring was possessing human hosts, plunging them into a deep sleep to drain their vital essence. Within ten days, a possessed person would wither away like a dead branch and die in their sleep.
“Yes,” the old woman said.
“May I go in and take a look?” Bai Zhao asked.
“You…?” The old woman hesitated. The person before her looked entirely like an ordinary commoner with no obvious special skills.
“Actually, I am an immortal cultivator.” To prove his words were true, a flash of blue light materialized in Bai Zhao’s palm, and a ball of pale blue flame hovered steadily above it.
In this era, the status of immortal cultivators was exceptionally high. Anyone who mastered even a shred of superficial technique would be well-provided for and respected by mortals, let alone Bai Zhao’s perpetual, unflickering flame.
“Alright, alright, please come in, quickly come in.” Treating it as a last resort, the old woman opened the door and let Bai Zhao and Chu Xingxi into the house.
There were several beds in the inner room of the pharmacy. Bai Zhao first settled Chu Xingxi onto a soft cot, then followed the old woman through the courtyard into their main hall.
The elderly man lying on the bed already had fingertips showing signs of withering like dry branches. Bai Zhao hooked his index finger around the old man’s pinky, and a blue fluorescent light invaded from the point of connection. Moving along the old man’s meridians throughout his entire body, he quickly located the source of the problem.
“He has been used as a host by a demon,” Bai Zhao said.
The old woman turned pale with fright. “What?!”
“The demon planted something inside his meridians, blocking the circulation of blood so that everything drains straight into the demon’s mouth through that object,” Bai Zhao explained. This demon was quite insidious as well—instead of possessing the host directly, it resorted to schemes, planting a portal-like mechanism inside the mortal’s body to sit back and reap the rewards effortlessly.
“Is there still saving him?” the old woman asked.
Bai Zhao turned around, his gaze fixed resolutely on the old woman. “There is.”