Chapter 455: Stop the Car, Start the Car, Talk of Money and Swords
The carriage of the National Academy left North Military Command Main Alley at the fastest possible speed.
The crowd gathered outside the alley had no time to react. Even Mao Qiuyu and Prince Chenliu had no idea what had happened inside the small courtyard.
The five hundred National Academy cavalry dispersed, leaving only trails of dust behind them.
Chen Changsheng and the others were in such a hurry, not because Zheshou's injuries were too severe to sustain him, but because the psychological shadow that small courtyard had left on them was too terrifying.
Zheshou lay on a stretcher, dressed in a clean set of plain clothes. His face was pale from a long lack of sunlight, and he looked somewhat thin, but there were no visible wounds. He seemed to be in decent condition.
The carriage sped along. The wind on the street lifted a corner of the curtain, and Tang Thirty-Six caught a glimpse of the eaves of Zhou Prison. His face turned slightly pale, and he instinctively gripped his sword hilt—nothing like the calm, composed demeanor he had shown while chatting with Zhou Tong in the courtyard earlier.
Zhou Prison was sinister, but the truly terrifying thing was Zhou Tong himself.
Chen Changsheng lowered his head. His sideburns were already soaked with sweat, making him look as if he had just done extremely heavy physical labor.
He took a handkerchief from his sleeve, wiped the sweat from his face, then crumpled it in his palm, wrapping it with his true essence.
Before entering Zhou Prison earlier, he had been clutching this very handkerchief.
He rarely sweated. Tang Thirty-Six and Xuan Yuan Po had never seen him do so before.
Today was a special case. He had anticipated beforehand that he might sweat.
Only after confirming that the sweat-soaked handkerchief had not released that unsettling, strange fragrance did Chen Changsheng truly relax.
This confrontation with Zhou Tong in the small courtyard had been far more heart-stopping for him than the battle with Zhou Ziheng.
Because during this confrontation, their minds had to endure an extremely terrifying pressure.
"Don't wipe your mouth," Tang Thirty-Six said, watching him wipe his sweat incessantly.
Chen Changsheng paused mid-motion and asked, "Why?"
Tang Thirty-Six replied, "Wiping your mouth with a handkerchief, just like Zhou Tong did just now, makes you look really twisted."
From the front of the carriage came the sound of Xuan Yuan Po's laughter. The simple-minded bear tribe youth always had such a low threshold for humor.
It wasn't a particularly funny joke, but at least it lightened the atmosphere in the carriage a little.
Chen Changsheng's mind gradually calmed, and he began to examine Zheshou's injuries.
He placed his fingers on Zheshou's pulse point and listened quietly. Suddenly, a muffled thud sounded inside the carriage, and his fingers were bounced off.
Tang Thirty-Six asked, "What's wrong?"
"A sudden surge of blood—his old problem."
Chen Changsheng felt that Zheshou's pulse was somewhat abnormal. He frowned slightly but said nothing. Instead, he untied the golden needles from his fingers and unbuttoned Zheshou's collar, preparing to apply the needles for a look.
But the moment he unbuttoned it, his hand froze.
When Tang Thirty-Six saw it, his body also stiffened.
Chen Changsheng's fingers trembled slightly, but he still slowly opened Zheshou's clothes, revealing his body.
Yes, Zheshou's face had no wounds, and it was impossible to tell what injuries or punishments he had suffered, because they were all on his body.
Now, there was not a single inch of intact skin on his body.
Everywhere were wounds and rotting flesh.
In some places, white bone was even visible.
In some places, even the bones had turned black.
Chen Changsheng didn't know how many kinds of torture Zheshou had endured, or how many poisons had been administered to him.
He didn't want to know, because he couldn't bear to know.
The carriage fell into a dead silence.
"Stop the carriage!"
Chen Changsheng suddenly said.
Tang Thirty-Six lowered his head. His right hand had somehow gripped the Wenshui Sword again.
Xuan Yuan Po didn't know what had happened inside the carriage. He stopped the carriage and climbed in, only to see Zheshou's horrific condition.
His eyes instantly turned red. His breathing became rapid and heavy. Because of his anger, his arms began to thicken, and steel-spike-like fur pushed through his skin—the precursor to his transformation.
"I'm going to kill Zhou Tong!"
Chen Changsheng and Tang Thirty-Six said nothing, but they felt the same way. That was why they had called for the carriage to stop, why they had gripped their sword hilts.
Zheshou had been tortured too cruelly. Chen Changsheng could no longer maintain his calm and steady state of mind, and Tang Thirty-Six no longer cared about his identity as a noble scion.
If Liang Xiaoxiao had used his own death to accuse Zheshou of colluding with the demons, and Zheshou had suffered because of Qi Jian's involvement, then Zhou Tong's refusal to release him and his use of such brutal methods to torture Zheshou meant that he was making the National Academy suffer in his place.
They were the National Academy, so of course they had to avenge Zheshou.
Just then, Zheshou opened his eyes.
Deep in his pupils, the lemon color was still there.
That was the fusion of Nanke's poison and the wolf tribe's fierce blood.
But because too many poisons had been implanted in him at Zhou Prison, the various toxins conflicted with each other. In the past few days, his eyesight had actually begun to recover somewhat.
Every time he woke up in Zhou Prison, he had to face endless pain. So when he opened his eyes, they were filled with coldness and hatred.
But at this moment, what he saw were not the bizarre torture devices, some even specifically designed for the demon race, but three young faces full of concern.
In a very short time, Zheshou fully regained his clarity and guessed from their expressions what they were planning to do.
The vigilance and hatred in his eyes gradually faded, but his face remained expressionless. He said directly to Xuan Yuan Po, "Drive."
His voice was very weak, but it carried a sense that brooked no refusal.
Xuan Yuan Po shouted loudly, "We're going to charge back to Zhou Prison to avenge you!"
Zheshou looked at him expressionlessly and said, "There are all kinds of branding irons in there. Do you want to make them braised bear paws?"
This was still not a funny joke, and this time, no one laughed.
Of course, it wasn't because Zheshou never told jokes, so everyone was a bit surprised.
"But... this anger, there's really no way to swallow it," Tang Thirty-Six said.
Zheshou replied, "When you can't beat the other side, you have to endure. Keep watching him, make yourself stronger, and then—bite him to death in one go."
That was the way of the wolf's survival.
Chen Changsheng looked at him sadly and said, "I'm sorry, I dragged you into this."
Zheshou closed his eyes and ignored him.
Xuan Yuan Po returned to the front of the carriage, and the carriage continued on its way.
They were getting farther and farther from Zhou Prison.
But the four youths in the carriage all knew clearly that one day, they would return to this place.
Suddenly, a cold, flat voice sounded inside the carriage.
It was Zheshou's voice. He still had his eyes closed.
"If you think I've suffered too much... just add more money."
...
...
Back at the National Academy, the priests of Qingyao Thirteen Division, who had been waiting for a long time, began to treat Zheshou with the Holy Light Technique. Then Chen Changsheng personally took over the treatment, carefully using golden needles and a small knife to deal with the appalling wounds on Zheshou's body. It took a full half day to finish, and by then, the sky was completely dark.
Zheshou's injuries were too severe. To facilitate treatment and avoid moving him, he didn't stay in the small buildings by the lakeside. Instead, thick bedding was laid out on the wooden floor of the library, and he lay there.
By the light of the lamps, Chen Changsheng looked over the National Academy's roster, then put it back in the drawer. He turned to look at the wolf tribe youth, who had his eyes closed and was enduring the pain in silence. He remembered that in the Zhou Garden, Zheshou had said he wanted a sword.
"Money... I don't have much right now," Chen Changsheng said, ignoring the annoyed look Tang Thirty-Six shot him from the side. "But I have many swords. You can pick any one you like."