WJ Chapter 127

Ru Fen (5)

Not even half a year had passed… and this was already the third time.

Inside the Medicine Gate’s quiet chamber, Yun Changliu’s gaze settled on Guan Wujue’s closed eyelids.

Before coming here, he had already heard the Yin Ghost’s report. The task assigned to the Protector had been completed without a single flaw — yet the price paid was far too devastating.

For ordinary people of the jianghu, injuries tended to be mostly external. Guan Wujue was the opposite — whenever he was hurt, it always seemed to damage his internal organs. He’d arrive at Medicine Gate already unconscious, coughing up blood continuously, running an intermittent fever…

Once or twice could be overlooked, but with things ending up like this every single time, Yun Changliu had already begun to sense, with growing unease, that something was wrong.

The Sect Leader’s gaze shifted to Guan Muyan, who was busy working at the bedside.

When he had first met Guan Wujue, he’d asked that Yin Ghost for his name, and received only the two words “Wujue” in reply. It was only later, after consulting the records, that Yun Changliu learned the man also had a surname.

He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It was only later, after hearing Guan Muyan mention it, that he learned Guan Wujue was actually the Hundred Medicines Elder’s adopted son — taken in several years ago, and taught medicine for quite a long stretch of time.

Regarding this, Yun Changliu had only one thing to say. “Since he is no longer a Yin Ghost, whatever family ties he ought to have — let them all be reclaimed.”

…Yet as it turned out, no great display of father-and-son warmth or filial devotion ever materialized between the two. What Yun Changliu did see was a father spending every day tending to his son’s illnesses and injuries.

Yun Changliu felt a heaviness in his heart. He wanted to speak directly, but feared disturbing the one on the bed. He took a few steps over to the old man’s side and lowered his voice. “How did he end up this badly injured again… Why does he sustain such grievous wounds so easily?”

Guan Muyan shook his head, words rising to his lips only to be swallowed back.

Yun Changliu noticed the shift in his expression. “If you have something to say, say it plainly.”

Guan Muyan let out a long sigh, beckoned a physician over to administer medicine to Guan Wujue, and also spoke in a low voice, “Sect Leader, the reasons behind this are difficult to explain in a few words…”

Yun Changliu understood at once. “It’s fine. Let’s step outside to talk.”

With that, he turned to head out. Yet Guan Wujue, lying on the bed, suddenly stirred — a flicker of pain crossed his brow, and he opened his eyes just slightly, his gaze still unfocused, as he spoke in a hoarse voice. “Sect Leader…”

Yun Changliu quickly turned back and sat down at the head of the bed, leaning forward and taking Guan Wujue’s hand. He said gently, “There is no need to speak. No need. This lord understands… You did very well.”

Yun Changliu knew Wujue wanted to report the outcome of his mission in person — it had been the same both times before when he’d suffered serious injuries; truly stubborn to the bone… as though he feared Yun Changliu might think him useless.

Guan Wujue’s gaze slid away. With an almost imperceptible movement, he eased his wrist back beneath the covers. That hand had killed over thirty people just yesterday, crawling through blood and mud — he did not want any lingering scent of bloodshed to taint the Sect Leader.

A soft ache stirred quietly in Yun Changliu’s heart. He tucked the corner of the blanket snugly around him and, through the soft bedding, gently stroked along his arm. “Rest well. This lord will come to see you again shortly.”

Guan Wujue gave a low sound of assent. His weakness pulled him swiftly into drowsiness, and his eyes fell shut. Only then did Yun Changliu exchange a glance with Guan Muyan and rise to his feet.

The two of them stepped outside. Guan Muyan carefully closed the door and asked the physicians and Zhuhuo Guards standing watch outside to step back for the time being, before turning to Yun Changliu and saying with measured deliberation. “Sect Leader, are you aware of… the Ghost Gate’s Three Injury Arts?”

Yun Changliu leaned against the doorframe. At those words, he drew in a quiet, sharp breath. “Don’t tell me he’s performed Buried Injury on himself?”

Exchanged Injury, Locked Injury, Buried Injury — the three together had long been collectively known as the Ghost Gate’s Three Injury Arts. As Sect Leader, Yun Changliu could not possibly be unfamiliar with them.

All three of these arts were extraordinarily brutal things. Even the Zhuhuo Guards would not use them under ordinary circumstances; only Yin Ghost death warriors — and especially Broken Ghosts who were already not long for this world — would abuse their own bodies in such ways.

Of the three: Exchanged Injury could be considered a vicious combat technique — kill a thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of your own; Locked Injury made use of the Yin Ghost armor to forcibly seal wounds and stanch bleeding, the pain of which went without saying; while Buried Injury was a secret method that could temporarily suppress all injuries throughout the body, making them appear on the surface as though they did not affect one’s movement or daily life… Yet suppressing injuries in this way was nothing more than drinking poison to quench a thirst. Once the old wounds erupted again, they could claim a life in an instant.

Guan Muyan let out a sharp laugh, but his graying brows drew together into a deep furrow. “Buried Injury alone? That’s far from the half of it! He performed Buried Injury on himself multiple times while at Ghost Gate. He’s already nearly reached the absolute limit of what his body can endure — his five viscera, six bowels, and all twelve meridians are in a state of ruin.”

“To put it plainly: this boy’s body right now is shattered from head to toe — touch him anywhere, and something will break. If things continue as they are, he will certainly not survive another year.”

“— What!?” Yun Changliu jolted with urgency. He cast an anxious glance back toward the room, his expression clouded with alarm and a flicker of reproach. “He—! Why didn’t you tell this lord sooner? How could you have let this drag on until now!”

Guan Muyan gave a bitter shrug of his shoulders.

Yun Changliu clenched his jaw in silence. Only after a long moment did he speak. “Is there still a way to treat him?”

“…One cannot say there is none. Only that the cost is steep — I do not know whether the Sect Leader will be willing.”

Guan Muyan tugged at his own hair with a sigh. If there had been an easy remedy, why would he have held his tongue?

Hearing that a solution existed, Yun Changliu set aside everything else and felt his heart loosen with relief first. “Tell me.”

Guan Muyan said: “You know… the Buried Injury art, to put it in plain terms, relies on deep internal energy, aided by a secret method, to forcibly conceal the injuries one has sustained — to pack them down inside the body, compress them, and prevent them from surfacing.”

As he spoke, he used his wrinkled hands to mime the gesture of stuffing something into a space. “It’s like packing rubbish into yellow earth.”

“In order to heal these injuries completely,” he continued, then mimed the motion of digging, “one can only open up that yellow earth again and carefully clear out all that has been packed inside. Do you follow what I mean?”

Yun Changliu watched the old man’s gestures and felt a chill creep down his spine.

What would need to be cut open and cleared out was not yellow earth — it was unmistakably Guan Wujue’s body. The body of a living, breathing person.

This man had spent five years at Ghost Gate, relentlessly burying his injuries as though stuffing rubbish… What on earth did he think his own body was?

Yun Changliu’s expression grew heavier with worry. Quietly, almost to himself, he murmured, “A treatment like this — would it be very painful…”

“No, no, the pain is the least of it,” Guan Muyan said, shaking his head with a sigh, and continued. “If we want to save his life now, we must draw out every buried wound to the surface of the body one by one, then treat each carefully — warm and nourish the qi and blood, rebalance yin and yang, clear the meridians, and replenish the internal organs. However…”

Yun Changliu frowned. “What difficulty is there in that?”

Guan Muyan was silent for a moment, then swallowed. “Sect Leader, I’ll speak plainly with you now. Don’t let the fact that our Four Directions Protector has refined martial arts fool you — he is only able to go on living day after day like that because he has suppressed all his injuries and ailments through the Buried Injury art. If we were to draw out all those buried wounds to the surface at this time, this person would be utterly weakened. Until he is healed, he absolutely cannot engage in any martial combat.”

Yun Changliu said, “Then have him rest and recuperate properly for a period of time.”

Guan Muyan gave a pained smile. “Sect Leader… he has buried far too many injuries. If we wish to heal him completely, the time required will inevitably be very long. Eight or nine months at the shortest, one or two years at the longest — even three to five years is not out of the question. Throughout that time, a vast quantity of precious medicinal materials will be consumed every single day, and if the medicine is cut off at any point midway through, his physical constitution simply will not hold.”

“You…” Guan Muyan paused, then ventured somewhat cautiously. “Would you truly be willing to spend a great fortune — keeping a useless invalid for a year or two — for nothing in return?”

Yun Changliu blinked. Guan Muyan hastened to add. “Sect Leader, the cost of this treatment is indeed enormous — but Wujue is a child of extraordinary talent, far beyond what any ordinary Yin Ghost could compare to. If he were to make a full recovery, in the future he could…”

“— Nonsense!”

Yun Changliu let out a half-exasperated, half-amused flick of his sleeve. He genuinely hadn’t expected that what Guan Muyan had been fretting over for so long came down to something like this. The Sect Leader’s expression was cool and composed. “Wujue is this lord’s personally chosen Four Directions Protector. What — is this lord supposed to simply not treat his injuries?”

“First, issue a prohibition order: he is not to leave the Sect for one year.”

…..

Yet before Guan Muyan could feel even a measure of relief, the true and greatest obstacle to this treatment made itself known — not on the Sect Leader’s side, but with the very person it concerned.

“I’m done being treated.”

Several days later, the Red-robed Protector, having recovered a fraction of his energy, leaned against the head of the bed, shoved the medicine bowl away, and said coldly, “Have you gone senile in your old age? That you’d dare take everything straight to the Sect Leader! The Sect Leader can’t bear to watch a subordinate die — of course he’ll want me treated once he knows how badly I’m injured… But surely you understand, don’t you?”

Guan Muyan stood stone-faced at the bedside. Guan Wujue pointed at himself, and with a cold laugh, pronounced each word with deliberate clarity. “I — am already on the verge of death.”

“It cannot be cured. This body of mine… is finished.”

When he had first heard Guan Muyan say he intended to treat his injuries, Guan Wujue had found it laughable.

Five years at Ghost Gate — he had clawed his way to the position of Ghost Head entirely by relying on the Three Injury Arts. All these years of recklessly destroying his own body could not be without consequence; those were debts he owed.

Guan Wujue himself had long since quietly made his peace with it. When all was said and done, he had only wanted to spend what remained of his life in exchange for one more look at Yun Changliu.

And yet now, they were suddenly telling him — it’s fine, none of those debts needed to be repaid!

All his many wounds and ailments could be healed, his broken body could recover, the vitality he had squandered could be restored, and he could go on serving as Yun Changliu’s Protector safely, for a long time yet to come.

— Hah. Where in this world would such a convenient stroke of fortune exist?

Even if it did — it wouldn’t fall to him.

Guan Muyan pushed the medicine bowl back toward him. “What’s the matter, you don’t trust my medical skills? If I say it can be cured, and I fail to cure it, you can have my head.”

Guan Wujue leaned back on the bed, cocked his head to one side with a sardonic look. “Somehow I feel like it’s you who doesn’t trust my judgment. Do you think I don’t know how many rare medicinal materials would be thrown away on a treatment like this?”

Guan Muyan said, “The Sect Leader has already agreed.”

“The Sect Leader simply doesn’t fully understand yet!” Guan Wujue grew somewhat agitated. He turned his face away listlessly. “Even with the Buried Injury, at least I can still be of some use… But if this treatment goes further, what will I become! Never mind being unable to fight — I might not even be able to get out of bed for months on end!”

“When the Sect Leader pulled me out of Ghost Gate back then, wasn’t it precisely because he valued my martial skills? If I lose my martial skills, out of the thousand-and-some Yin Ghosts in Ghost Gate — on what grounds would the Sect Leader pour so much effort into keeping a useless invalid?!”

As he spoke, Guan Wujue let out a low, quiet sound. But the force behind his words ebbed as his eyes dimmed. Very softly, he said, “When… when he actually sees what a wreck I’ve become… he won’t want me anymore.”

Guan Muyan jabbed a finger toward his nose, trembling with fury. “You, you, you! Why must you torment yourself with these thoughts! Once you’re well, won’t you be able to do even more for the Sect Leader?!”

Guan Wujue shook his head. His simply-bound black hair swayed with the movement. He rolled over, turning his back to Guan Muyan, lay down on the bed, and closed his eyes.

“There is nothing more to say. I will absolutely not continue treatment. I’ll rest one more day today, and tomorrow I can head out of the city again. I’ve heard there’s been some trouble at the Wei Family Estate to the west — there’s a branch hall out that way. I’d like to request the Sect Leader’s permission to make a trip…”

Guan Muyan suddenly sighed. “Ah… boy, I don’t think you’ll be able to leave the city, I’m afraid.”

Guan Wujue turned his head to one side in puzzlement. “Why not?”

“— Because this lord has issued the Protector a prohibition order!”

Before Guan Muyan could answer, the sound of the door being pushed open rang out. The white-robed Sect Leader stepped in at an unhurried pace, his clean and refined features bearing an expression like frost, his voice carrying a degree of cold severity beyond the usual:

“For one full year, you are to go nowhere. Stay put within Xifeng City and tend to your recovery in earnest… That is an order.”

“Sect Leader!”

Guan Wujue was struck with sudden alarm. Not daring to talk back, he first rolled over and knelt to pay his respects. Yet inside, the Sect Leader’s few words had stirred a vast and surging tide.

“…”

Yun Changliu was silent for a moment. The gaze he rested on the Protector softened all at once. He took a few more steps forward and bent down with careful attentiveness to help Guan Wujue up, saying gently. “Be good. This lord wants you here. From now on, this lord will come to see you every day… Focus on getting well — you need not think about anything else.”

With that, Yun Changliu exerted a slight force with his hands and lifted the Protector back onto the bed. Then he sat down at the head of the bed himself, personally picked up the bowl, and extended a porcelain spoonful of medicine. “Here. Drink your medicine.”

Guan Wujue shut his eyes and turned his face away, evading. His fingers unconsciously clutched at the corner of the blanket. His heart ached with a raw, piercing pang. “Sect Leader, since you’ve already… already heard everything — please grant your subordinate this wish.”

Yun Changliu exchanged a worried glance with Guan Muyan. The Sect Leader set down the medicine bowl, placed both hands on the Protector’s shoulders, and coaxed him patiently. “Just one year. Endure just one year… You won’t die, and you will get better. You must be good and listen.”

Guan Wujue drew in a breath. He suddenly opened his eyes again and looked at Yun Changliu, his tone edged with urgency:

“Sect Leader, please let your subordinate lay out the figures for you… You may not fully realize — if this method of treatment is followed, exactly how many valuable medicinal materials would be sacrificed in the process… This one bowl of medicine alone is worth no less than a thousand taels of gold. Three doses a day, taken for a year — that would be one million taels of gold…”

Guan Muyan suddenly cut in. “It wouldn’t need to be taken for a full year! Once your condition improves, the prescription can naturally be changed.”

Guan Wujue paid him no mind, and addressed Yun Changliu earnestly. “You have worked so hard to win Zhuyin Sect some time to rest and recover — everyone can see it. These injuries of this subordinate’s… at the end of the day, they were all self-inflicted. There is no need for you to pay the price on this subordinate’s behalf, and it is even less acceptable to do so at the cost of draining Zhuyin Sect dry.”

Yun Changliu slowly knit his brows. Moved by Guan Wujue’s words, he fell into deep and wordless thought, conflict playing visibly across his expression.

The Protector hastened to press the advantage while he could. In a low and hoarse plea, he said, “Sect Leader, this subordinate was born a Broken Ghost — to have earned the Sect Leader’s recognition is already a blessing beyond three lifetimes. There is no need to spend any further thought on me. This subordinate is of lowly fate and thin blessings, and was never destined to live many years more. Please, Sect Leader — do not waste your efforts on someone like me, this subordinate is not worth…”

Yun Changliu finally let out a long, heavy sigh. “…This lord cannot argue with you.”

Guan Wujue finally let out a breath of relief.

“However — this lord is the master; you are the subordinate. It is only right that you listen to this lord.”

Guan Wujue: ???

In the midst of Guan Wujue’s suddenly bewildered gaze, Yun Changliu picked up the medicine bowl once more, and said with calm indifference. “Four Directions Protector Guan Wujue, receive your orders!”

“This lord commands you — drink. Your. Medicine.”