Chapter 237 - 132: Desperate Situation (2)

"To repay you for the immense favor of saving my Jiuan Hunting Manor, my uncle really went all out. He even took the money he’d saved up for my wedding to the Prefecture City. I wonder if he spent it all..."

"Chuang! Chuang!"

In the distance, a fine steed came galloping over, its hooves a thundering clatter that sent startled pedestrians scrambling out of the way.

The man on its back was none other than Zhu Kang.

Still some distance away, Wang Chuang squinted but couldn’t make out the details, only a silhouette.

Chen Cheng, however, could see with perfect clarity that both Zhu Kang and his horse were stained with blood. There was a long, thin gash on Zhu Kang’s face, stretching diagonally from his cheekbone to the base of his ear. The edges of the wound had a faint bluish-green tint, as if he had been poisoned.

Soon, Zhu Kang reached them, struggling to rein in his horse.

Only then did Wang Chuang see clearly. Zhu Kang had wounds on his face and body, especially a deep cut on his waist where the flesh was peeled back, faintly revealing his ribs.

"Uncle, what happened to you?"

Wang Chuang rushed forward, reaching out to help grab the reins, but the sudden movement tugged at the wound on his left shoulder, making him grimace in pain.

Chen Cheng did not step forward, but immediately offered a warning:

"Uncle Zhu, the wound on your face doesn’t look right. You need to see a doctor as soon as possible."

"I... I’m fine. The Manor Master... he’s in trouble..."

Zhu Kang gasped for breath.

"At Seven Miles Slope... on our way back... we were... we were ambushed by a private troop from the Bai Family... I barely managed to fight my way out to get help... The Manor Master... he’s trapped back there..."

He finished his report in a rush, then urged them on with a trembling wave of his hand:

"Get out of the way, quick! I have to rush to the Captain’s Mansion for reinforcements..."

"The Captain’s Mansion?"

Wang Chuang’s brow furrowed tightly.

"At this hour, the Captain’s Mansion’s forces have already dispersed to the Outer City for patrols. By the time you report to the Inner City and the order to mobilize is sent out, my uncle... I’m afraid he’ll already be dead..."

"Then what other choice do we have?"

Zhu Kang’s entire face contorted, equally sick with worry.

"Our Hunting Manor is even farther away, so going back for our own men is out of the question... This is a desperate gamble, but it’s all I’ve got!"

"Uncle Zhu, don’t worry. I’ll go take a look," Chen Cheng said in a low voice.

"You should stick to your plan. Go to the Captain’s Mansion to report, and while you’re there, have their military doctor treat your wounds."

Chen Cheng had long known that the Jiuan Hunting Manor and the Captain’s Mansion often joined forces to eliminate bandits.

With a military doctor from the Captain’s Mansion on the case, Zhu Kang’s poisoned wound shouldn’t be a major issue.

Zhu Kang was taken aback for a moment. "You’re going?"

"How... how do you plan to get there?"

"Don’t worry, Uncle Zhu," Chen Cheng said calmly. "I’m fast on my feet. Seven miles shouldn’t take me too long."

The moment his voice fell, Chen Cheng was already in motion.

He shot forward at an incredible speed, as if each stride covered the distance of several, or even a dozen, ordinary steps. In the blink of an eye, he had crossed half the street.

"I’m going too!"

Wang Chuang had barely spoken when he realized Chen Cheng had already vanished from his sight, either by melting into the crowd or by moving too fast for his eyes to follow.

"Chuang! Don’t go making things worse!" Zhu Kang hastily stopped him.

"Your wound hasn’t healed! Besides, you’re nowhere near as strong as Brother Chen! Find a safe place to wait for news from us!"

"Damn it!"

Wang Chuang slammed his fist into a nearby brick wall, so hard that the wall trembled and debris rained down.

The wound flared with agonizing pain, but he paid it no mind.

’Right now, I just hate that I can’t sprout wings and fly to Seven Miles Slope! More than that, I hate that I’m so weak I’d only be a burden if I went!’

Zhu Kang said no more. Gritting his teeth, he spurred his horse on, continuing his gallop toward the Captain’s Mansion.

Watching Zhu Kang’s figure also disappear from view, Wang Chuang remained where he was, his fist still pressed against the wall.

His teeth were clenched so tightly they seemed on the verge of shattering, making a loud GRINDING sound.

"I have to get stronger!"

He muttered, his voice so hoarse it sounded unlike his own.

After a pause, the words were forced out from between his gritted teeth, each one seemingly taking all the strength in his body:

"I must become stronger! As strong as Cheng!"

...

「Dusk was falling.」

The pedestrians and vendors on the street were busy packing up their stalls and heading home.

Chen Cheng’s figure weaved through the crowd, darting left and right like a fish slipping through a net. One moment he was at the head of the street, the next he was already flashing past its end.

Some people only registered a blur in front of their eyes. When they turned to look, they couldn’t see anything clearly and just assumed the evening wind had played a trick on their eyes.

「A short time later.」

Chen Cheng had arrived at the South City Gate.

The soldiers guarding this Outer City gate were all old, weak, or crippled—a far cry from the elite Armored Warriors at the Inner City Gate.

Chen Cheng simply activated his Thunder Treading Skill, put on a burst of speed, and flashed right past them.

The few old soldiers leaning inside the gate tunnel didn’t notice a thing, simply assuming the draft had picked up a little.

「Outside the city.」

Snow still covered most of the landscape. The world was a vast expanse of gray and white, silent and desolate.

Chen Cheng took a moment to regulate his breathing, then fully activated the Silent Thunder Treading Skill.

The step technique he used suddenly changed.

It was no longer the light, agile glide from before.

Instead, he assumed an utterly savage and explosive posture, like a bolt of human-shaped lightning, and charged forward.

A vast cloud of snow kicked up behind him, as if a storm were passing through.

He didn’t follow the main road, but instead charged in a dead-straight line toward Seven Miles Slope.

Withered trees, snowdrifts, and earthen mounds flew past him, too fast for their shapes to register, becoming nothing more than gray-and-white blurs streaking past the corners of his eyes.

Seven Miles Slope was seven miles from the city.

For an ordinary person, walking through the snow would take well over an hour; even on horseback, the journey would take the time needed for two incense sticks to burn.