"How is it, Brother Wei? Anyone following us?"
"Uh, no. Those three ladies vanished, and no one suspicious trailed us either."
"Good. Turn that corner—yeah, that one. Into the alley. Quick! Damn, it hurts like hell... I was wearing the Indestructible Gold-thread Armor, so Qin Ni'er's palm strike couldn't really hurt me. But that sword from Lianzhou Luo'er—damn, that actually pierced right through my shoulder! Stupid armor's like a crop top—looks flashy but doesn't even cover the shoulders… Ahh, easy! That stings!"
Qiao Wei half-dragged the Third Young Master into a quiet alleyway, deserted except for a few stray cats rummaging through trash.
The young master slumped against the wall, gritting his teeth in pain. Qiao Wei pulled out a silk kerchief, spread it neatly on the ground, and helped him sit down gently. Once he was settled, Qiao Wei took out a small pair of scissors and started cutting open the area around the wound.
As he worked, he grinned ear to ear. "Young Master, that performance you put on just now—whew, Oscar-worthy stuff! The expressions, the moves, that blood spray? I swear it looked more real than real!"
"Of course!" the young master puffed up. "I've watched more movies and dramas than you've had hot meals. Back in college, I was in the drama club for three years straight—always played the villain, always won Best Supporting Actor. Heh..."
He basked in his glory for a moment, then sighed, "But that blood I spat wasn't fake... I was planning to just use tomato juice, but Luo'er's sword energy actually reached my lungs. Dammit, that hurt. Ah—hey, easy! Didn't you see the gaping hole in my shoulder? You want me to stab you and let you feel it?"
"Hehe, no need, Young Master," Qiao Wei chuckled. "I've been around the jianghu for decades. Seen all kinds of wounds." As he finished snipping the fabric, a torn and gory shoulder wound was revealed. "Young Master, you mentioned movies and college—what the heck are those?"
"Oh, movies are like... fancy plays. You know, folks in flashy costumes on stage. Don't tell me you've never seen one. And college? That's this... semi-secret organization. Basically a place where people pay money to pretend to study and act. Interested? Only 500,000 taels for a lifetime membership. I'm a lifetime member, I could recommend you~"
"Heh, pass. I'm too broke for that. But Young Master, this wound is tricky. That Nine Heavens Mini Sword she used—its tip has a reverse barb. Tore your flesh open like an X. And it's still bleeding like a damn fountain!"
"Brother Wei, enough weapon analysis! I need healing, not a lecture! Just use whatever top-tier wound medicine I've got—don't hold back!"
The young master fumbled in his robes and handed Qiao Wei a small medicine pouch filled with bottles, powders, and pills—boosters, healers, aphrodisiacs, sleep aids, truth serums, you name it.
Qiao Wei sorted through the stash and muttered, "Young Master... you carrying a whole apothecary on you or what? I'm impressed. But I've got no tools to stitch you up, and I'm no expert in acupoint sealing..."
"…You're one of the Four Demonic Lords and you can't seal acupoints?" The young master stared in disbelief.
Qiao Wei scratched his head sheepishly. "Didn't train properly as a kid, alright? Acupoint techniques are hard—take ages to master, and you have to pair them with powerful finger arts. Anyone who perfects it likely spent their whole life doing just that…"
The young master thought for a moment. He had some crude grasp of acupoint sealing himself, but barely enough to poke his own elbow, let alone someone else's. It was true—those arts weren't for the lazy.
"Fine, whatever. First, we stop the bleeding. Just use the golden healing powder. Don't worry about it."
"But if I don't stitch the wound before applying the medicine, once it heals, it's gonna look... hideously lopsided…" Qiao Wei hesitated. He didn't care much about the scar, but he did worry about being blamed later. Scapegoating ran strong in this household.
Just as the two were bickering, a soft, clear voice with a hint of tenderness interrupted them:"I'll stitch his wound."
The young master's heart skipped a beat. He turned his head, stunned.
At the alley's entrance stood a woman dressed in pure white, her long robe fluttering gently in the breeze. Her waist-length hair shimmered like silk, and she looked every bit like a fairy untouched by the mortal world.
She stepped forward gracefully, her gentle gaze resting on the young master as she approached.
Qiao Wei glanced at the young master, then at the woman. Smiling faintly, he stepped aside.He had sensed her presence tailing them for some time. Since she hadn't made a move, he let her be. If she turned hostile, he was confident he could finish her within three moves.
"M-Mei-jie... You came?" The young master's voice quivered with emotion.
Of course, it was Qiu Ruomei.
She had heard rumors near the headquarters of Blowing Snow Hall—news of the young master's fall from grace, of righteous sects chasing him, and even a planned martial tribunal. In a panic, she had traveled from the south all the way to Dingzhou, searching for him day and night. She finally found him—just in time to see him wounded.
Though she initially wanted to avenge him by killing Luo'er and Ni'er, she'd seen that subtle lip gesture from him. She didn't understand his plan, but his injuries were real, and that was enough to make her heart ache.
She knelt beside him, carefully wiping the blood from his wound with cotton cloth. Her breath brushed against his skin as she worked, cool and fragrant.
"Mei-jie… I thought you'd forgotten all about me." He grinned weakly, his pale face tinged with color.
"No talking," she said with a mock frown. "You're injured. Why are you still joking around?"
"It's nothing. Just a scratch. I was acting, y'know? Took a hit on purpose for the drama. Otherwise, with my Heaven-Shading Palm, those girls couldn't touch me in a hundred years—ugh, cough…" He spoke too fast, triggering a burst of bloody coughing.
"You call that nothing? You're coughing up blood!" Qiu Ruomei's sternness broke into concern as she wiped his mouth and checked his pulse. "Her sword damaged your lung meridian… how vicious!" She pulled out a pearl-like pill. "Swallow this."
He obeyed. A cool, soothing energy spread through his chest, and the burning pain subsided.
"Wow... that's some good stuff! Didn't know you carried miracle meds, Mei-jie."
"It's our Snowy Mountain Sect's sacred healing pill. I only had one. No more playing the hero, you hear? That was reckless, even if it was for show…" She sighed. "Still, it's nothing compared to your revival pill."
She threaded a needle deftly, then moved to stitch his wound.
"Heh, Mei-jie, you're being modest. Your life is precious, mine's just... oww!"The needle pierced him mid-joke.
"Still talking?" she chided gently. "Sit still, it'll be over soon."
Her hands danced as she stitched. The wound was messy and jagged, but her technique was flawless—each torn edge perfectly aligned, as though the flesh had never been severed.
Qiao Wei watched in awe. "Such 'Seamless Needlework'! No wonder your Snowy Mountain Sect is famed for its tailoring! I swear, you could open a tailoring shop or clinic and be richer than half the martial world!"
The young master scowled. "Wei-ge, is that a compliment or an insult?"
Qiao Wei chuckled awkwardly and shut up.
When she finished stitching, Qiu Ruomei sprinkled healing powder and carefully wrapped the wound with clean bandages. As she searched the pouch for more gauze, her eyes fell on the array of dubious pills.
Reading a few labels, she sighed, "What is this? One Night Passion Powder, Mystic Desire Mix, I Love You Club, Thrust of Love...? Ah-Ren, what am I going to do with you?"
The young master laughed sheepishly and wisely said nothing.
Once the bandaging was done, Qiu Ruomei turned to Qiao Wei and asked politely, "Sir, I noticed you recognized my 'Seamless Needlework.' Forgive my ignorance—I couldn't tell who you were. May I ask your honorable name?"