A few hours after Miao Mingzhu left the inn, a quiet murmur spread through the crowd as the poison began to wear off. People began to feel their limbs again, their strength slowly returning. Fu Yuanjun, the ten elders of Tianshan, and the ten lamas all decided to stay the night, recovering from the effects of the poison.
Kuo Lok began to walk, but after a few steps, he realized Bazar Batu wasn't following. He turned and saw his friend still sitting on the floor, looking very grumpy. Kuo Lok went back to him.
"Why aren't you getting up?" Kuo Lok asked gently.
Bazar Batu looked up, gave him a long, theatrical eyeroll, and offered a wry, resentful smile.
"Let me help you," Kuo Lok said, stretching out his large hand.
"Da ge," Bazar Batu groaned, "I can't even lift my fingers, how can I get up?"
Without another word, Kuo Lok bent down and effortlessly scooped Bazar Batu into his arms. He carried him up the stairs and gently placed him on the bed. Kuo Lok sat next to him, watching his face, and realized his friend was obviously angry about something.
"Are you angry?" Kuo Lok asked.
"Not angry," Bazar Batu said sarcastically, "just a little disappointed."
"Disappointed?" Kuo Lok asked, his face a mask of confusion. "Of what?"
A pained, hysterical laugh escaped Bazar Batu's lips. "Lok ge," he said, his voice laced with a strange mixture of anger and anguish, "why did you let that woman kiss you on the cheek?"
"I couldn't help it," Kuo Lok replied simply. "We were poisoned."
"Have you ever kissed anyone before?" Bazar Batu asked.
Kuo Lok shook his head.
"Come here," Bazar Batu commanded, his voice tight with an emotion he couldn't name. Without waiting, he grabbed the front of Kuo Lok's collar and pulled him closer, his face drawing near. In a sudden, impulsive act, he kissed Kuo Lok's lips. The moment hung in the air, a mixture of shock and quiet intimacy, before Bazar Batu abruptly pulled away.
He didn't know why he had done it. A powerful, possessive impulse had surged through him, an emotion he had never felt before. Growing up, everything he desired was given to him without question, making him accustomed to a world that bent to his will. Kuo Lok's simple, unforced kindness was a treasure he had never earned, and it sparked a deep-seated feeling of ownership within him. When Miao Mingzhu had kissed Kuo Lok earlier, he hadn't just been angry at her; his rage had been directed more at Kuo Lok for not resisting, for allowing someone else to stake a claim on what he felt was his.
"Lok ge," Bazar Batu said, his voice unsteadies, "turn your face this way." He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and began to furiously rub Kuo Lok's right cheek, scrubbing away the memory of the kiss. He brushed hard, then harder, his jaw clenched as he focused on erasing the mark. When he finally came to his senses, he saw a bright red welt on Kuo Lok's fair skin. Horrified by his own actions, he pulled his hand away as if burned. "I'm... I'm so sorry," he stammered.
"It's okay," Kuo Lok replied softly, his kind eyes filled with nothing but understanding. "Do you feel better?"
Feeling a wave of guilt wash over him, Bazar Batu clutched Kuo Lok's right arm and leaned on his broad shoulder. "Lok ge ge," he said, his voice raw with a newfound vulnerability, "other ladies can like you, but you cannot like them back."
Kuo Lok simply replied, "Alright." After a quiet moment, he looked at Bazar Batu and asked, "Can I kiss you?"
Bazar Batu gave a soft, thoughtful "Hmm." He then turned to face Kuo Lok, who leaned in and gently kissed him on the lips. The kiss was as soft as a dragonfly's legs touching the surface of still water, a delicate and tender moment between them.
The next morning, Fu Yuanjun walked into the inn's dining hall. He approached the table where Kuo Lok and Bazar Batu were eating.
"We're heading to Sword Village for a Hero Conference," he announced, his voice carrying an official tone. "Are you two interested in joining us?"
"Of course!" Bazar Batu exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
Even though Bazar Batu had already accepted on their behalf, Fu Yuanjun's gaze remained fixed on Kuo Lok, silently seeking his personal agreement.
Kuo Lok simply gave a firm nod in reply.
After five days of relentless travel, the group finally arrived at a small tavern on the outskirts of Yong Village. By the time they reached it, it was already late afternoon.
Weary and travel-worn, Kuo Lok, Bazar Batu, Fu Yuanjun, and the ten elders of Tianshan walked into the lively tavern. It was a massive, boisterous place teeming with the energy of fellow travelers and wandering xia. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and strong wine, and the sounds of laughter and clinking cups filled the space. The tavern had only a single front entrance that opened directly into a sprawling dining area with no roof, where the sky served as a vast, natural ceiling. The guestrooms were tucked away beside the dining hall, behind the bustling kitchen.
As they walked into the tavern, Bazar Batu's gaze scanned the room. He quickly spotted a familiar group sitting to their right. The handsome young man in white was there, as was the one called Zhu Mingyang.
Kuo Lok and Bazar Batu settled at one table, while Fu Yuanjun and the ten elders of Tianshan took up two larger tables. Bazar Batu found himself unable to look away from the man in white and Zhu Mingyang.
"Batu," Kuo Lok said quietly, "it's not good to stare."
Bazar Batu leaned in, his voice a low whisper. "Lok ge ge, look at the man in white sitting with those ten people. They are the group we met in the roadside teahouse."
"Even so, it's not good to stare," Kuo Lok said, his voice flat.
"I don't want to be rude," Bazar Batu replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "I'm just curious."
Kuo Lok lifted his teacup and took a slow sip. He set it back down with a soft click and, without looking at his friend, said in a grave tone, "Curiosity will get you killed."
Bazar Batu smiled faintly. "Wow, you sound just like my brother." He picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.
"I am older than you," Kuo Lok said, "but don't consider me as your brother."
Bazar Batu chuckled. "Then should I consider you a partner in crime?"
Kuo Lok placed his teacup on the table and turned to face Bazar Batu, his expression suddenly serious. "If you want to commit a crime, I won't allow it."
Bazar Batu burst into laughter at Kuo Lok's serious tone. "Ha, ha, ha! You are truly so dull!" he said with a fond shake of his head before returning to his food.
Just then, the tavern's single entrance was filled by five new arrivals. Bazar Batu's eyes widened as he saw them, his excitement building at the sight of their brightly colored clothes: a flash of red, a splash of blue, a touch of yellow, green, and black.
"Hey, hey, Lok ge ge," he whispered urgently, "look at those people."
Kuo Lok turned to the front entrance and saw the five men dressed in their distinct colors, now seated at a table, their gazes fixed intently on the man in white.
"Don't make trouble," Kuo Lok said flatly, without looking up from his bowl.
Bazar Batu turned to him, his eyes wide with feigned outrage. "Me? Making trouble? How dare you accuse me!"
At that moment, a new group entered the tavern. It was Yong Taihua, Yong Caixia, and four of their classmates, a party of six in total. They found two empty tables and sat down. From across the room, one of the young women stared intently at Kuo Lok, while one of the young men stared at the five men in multicolored clothes.
As Bazar Batu watched them, his eyes met the young woman's. She quickly looked away, turning her attention back to the young man she was talking to.
Then, not long after, ten Himalayan monks in deep red robes walked into the tavern, their serene presence a stark contrast to the boisterous crowd. A waiter quickly seated them at two tables.
From across the room, the group of young people, led by Yong Taihua and Yong Caixia, got up and walked toward Fu Yuanjun and the elders of Tianshan. With a deep bow, they formally paid their respects to the esteemed masters.
Fu Yuanjun looked at the young man and woman with a warm expression. "How is Chief Yong doing?" he asked.
"Father is doing well," the young man replied respectfully.
"Taihua," Elder Tong said, stepping forward, "how is Monk Hao?"
"Hao da ye is doing very well," Yong Taihua confirmed.
Fu Yuanjun looked relieved. "Mu da ge isn't causing any trouble for him?"
"No," Yong Caixia answered. "Shizun didn't cause any trouble when he was visiting home."
Fu Yuanjun's eyebrows shot up. "Shizun?"
"He taught us the formation of the new Seven Stars," Yong Taihua explained. "So, my father and Hao da ye asked us to call him shizun."
"With his attitude," Fu Yuanjun said with a resigned sigh, "I wonder if he would accept it."
Yong Taihua's face fell. "He doesn't accept it."
"He's unwilling to accept it," Yong Caixia admitted, "but we will continue to persevere him."
Yong Taihua's eyes had been scanning the room. He suddenly turned his head back to the table with a sneer. "What are these five-colored mice doing here?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, a young man appeared in a blur of motion, flying over the front door. He held a sword in his right hand and went straight for the back of the man in white.
"Be careful!" Bazar Batu shouted, his voice cutting through the sudden silence.
Zhu Mingyang suddenly shoved the man in white to the floor. In a flash, the young man's sword plunged forward, piercing Zhu Mingyang's right shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Zhu Mingyang retaliated with a fist strike to the young man's abdomen. The young man managed to block the blow, but the raw, internal force behind Zhu Mingyang's fist sent him flying, soaring thirty feet through the air before he landed with a hard thud near the entrance.
Cao Yanmei smiled, looking at the young man on the floor. "Ge," she said softly, a cold command hidden in the single word.
Cao Wenyan's smile was just as chilling. "Kill him."
With a roar of pain and effort, Zhu Mingyang gritted his teeth and used his internal strength to forcibly rip the sword out of his shoulder. The blade shot through the air, a blur of silver, and flew directly toward Cao Wenyan. Without a hint of panic, Cao Wenyan took a single step to his left, moving toward Cao Yanmei. The sword narrowly missed him, burying itself with a thud into the wall behind the twelve people.
Blood from Zhu Mingyang's wound dripped onto the floor, a crimson spatter against the dark wood. On one side, the twelve people with Cao Wenyan drew their swords with a simultaneous, chilling rasp of steel on steel. On the other, Zhu Mingyang and his ten men followed suit, their blades hissing from their scabbards. The tavern fell silent, a palpable tension hanging in the air.
Hearing the twin sounds of swords being drawn, the young man in white began to feel around with his hands, his movements frantic and disoriented. His face, once serene, was now a mask of fear. His voice shook as he called out, "Mingyang... Mingyang..."