Chapter 1559 - 643: Undercurrents Surge In

Chapter 1559: Chapter 643: Undercurrents Surge In

But Chen San didn’t make any excuses, simply doing his utmost to complete Ning Zhuo’s tasked assignment!

The fragrance of tea wafted around, gradually taking on a sweet and cloying aroma.

A sense of weakness began to spread from within Chen San’s body.

"Something’s wrong!" His throat tightened and his tongue felt numb, trying to regulate his mana, but it dispersed chaotically, without any order.

Startled, cold sweat broke out on Chen San’s back. He tried to stand, but his knee struck the table leg, making a dull thud.

The shop assistant pushed open the door: "Esteemed guest, is there anything you need?"

Chen San opened his mouth: "I..."

His tongue stiff, all that came out were unintelligible sounds. The stairs, tables, and chairs, and the drinkers around him were all gently swaying. The tea fragrance grew stronger, even the light outside the window tinged with a faint green hue.

The shop assistant’s face changed, pressing his hand on the table, suddenly shouting, "Guest, you haven’t paid for the tea, cakes, or the seating yet!"

Chen San widened his eyes.

The shop assistant continued to raise his voice: "Oh, you think you can eat for free at our Cloud Guest House?"

This shout promptly drew many glances.

Chen San grew anxious, his temples throbbing.

"Still pretending to be drunk?" the shop assistant sneered, "I’ve seen plenty like you! Someone, take him down for me!"

Two burly guards advanced, holding Chen San on either side.

Chen San struggled with all his might, but the guards’ techniques were very experienced. With a squeeze on his ribs, they completely subdued him.

Chen San was dragged down the stairs.

His boots scraped against the wooden steps, producing a dragging noise. The bright light from outside the window mixed with the aromas of tea, wine, and meat inside the tavern, clouding his divine sea with confusion.

He tried to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember each face of the shop assistant and the two guards. But soon, he succumbed to unconsciousness, the mocking voices of onlookers fading away.

When Chen San awoke, his nose was filled with the smell of wood ashes.

He found himself lying on the cold ground, his cheek pressed against rough wooden boards, his mouth stuffed with a wad of cloth. His wrists, ankles, and waist were bound with ropes, which were affixed with forbidden talismans. The talisman paper emitted a dim earthy glow, pressing what little mana he managed to gather back deep into his dantian.

This was a woodshed.

Chopped spirit wood was piled in the corner, with wood shavings scattered on the ground. Light seeped through a crack in the door, but it was dim, like the end of dusk.

Chen San paused for a few breaths, a low moan escaping his throat.

No response.

He tried to twist his wrists, but the ropes immediately tightened. The talisman light pierced into his flesh, causing veins to throb on his forehead, and cold sweat to seep layer by layer from his back.

"It’s over!" Despair instinctually rose within him.

"No, I can’t give up like this!"

Chen San bit down on the cloth, a fierce look emerging in his eyes.

He had crawled out of the mine slave pit, tumbled and rolled out from the Qingfeng Sect’s servant ranks, been wronged, whipped, and seen too many people in high places casually crush those below.

"I struggled to climb up to the Young Master, entrusted with an important task. I can’t die here!"

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard outside the woodshed.

Very light.

Chen San immediately closed his eyes, pretending to still be unconscious.

The door lock didn’t sound.

A shadow seeped in through the bottom of the door. It glided across the ground, bypassing the woodpile, arriving next to Chen San, then suddenly rose up, transforming into a gray-robed cultivator.

This person’s face was unfamiliar, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. The shadow of the hat covered his eyes, only revealing a slightly pale jaw.

Chen San’s eyelids tensed up but he didn’t move.

The gray-robed cultivator crouched down, reaching to remove the cloth from his mouth: "Black Kite Chen San, stop pretending if you’re awake. You’ve messed up your breathing three times."

Chen San’s lips were dry, his voice raspy: "Who are you?"

The gray-robed cultivator brought two fingers together, pointing at the talisman on the ropes.

The talisman paper silently split apart.

The ropes loosened and fell to the ground like dead snakes.

Chen San slowly got up, examining the other person: "Who are you? Why help me?"

The gray-robed cultivator chuckled softly: "What are you, worth my saving? My master simply can’t bear to see your Young Master Ning Zhuo in trouble, thus sent me to assist."

Chen San remained expressionless: "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

The gray-robed cultivator shook his head, staring at Chen San: "My master has a grudge against the three heroes of the Xiang Si Sect. Ning Zhuo wants to make war with them, and my master is willing to provide full support!"

The gray-robed cultivator retrieved a plain-white storage bag from his sleeve, tossing it to Chen San: "This is the deposit. Inside are items, consider it a gift for your Young Master. Among them are secrets about Tan Zhu and the Heaven-reaching Hook. I hope your Young Master recognizes our sincerity."

Chen San caught the storage bag, feeling its weight in his palm.

It was not light.

The gray-robed cultivator transformed into a mass of shadows, swiftly disappearing.

Chen San’s emotions were complicated, it made no sense for the other side to assist Young Master Ning Zhuo and then scheme against him before that. Therefore, what was in the storage bag was highly likely genuine.

"Who’d have thought, the investigative task given by the Young Master would be accomplished this way! Truly... sigh."

Chen San gritted his teeth, leaving with complex emotions.