Chapter 118: Zhang Xiaoyan Heartbrokenly Beats Big Yellow

Dahuang lowered its head, letting out a soft, low whine, then shook its head and bobbed it back and forth several times.

Zhang Xiaoyan looked at Wei Xiaoping’s wound, choking back sobs. Seeing Dahuang’s mixed gestures of nodding and shaking, she scolded it angrily: "You’re nodding and shaking your head like that—are you trying to say you want to speak but don't dare?"

Dahuang nodded again.

Dahuang had come to stay with Xiaoping when he was about thirteen. Zhang Xiaoyan, however, had followed Master Xuankong up the mountain to practice martial arts and immortal techniques at the age of five. Xuankong, Xuanzhe, and Xuanwu were fellow disciples. Although they each took their own pupils and taught them in separate dwellings—some distance apart—they were brothers in the craft. They frequently led their disciples to visit one another, exchange cultivation insights, and spar. Furthermore, at the middle and end of every year, Master Shangheng required the disciples to bring their own students to gather for collective training. Because of this, the younger generation saw each other often, and Zhang Xiaoyan had become childhood playmates with Wei Xiaoping and Wei Xiaofan, sharing similar ages and interests.

When Wei Xiaoping first brought Dahuang back, Zhang Xiaoyan often visited to play, and the brothers frequently went to Uncle Xuankong’s place to see her. Since Dahuang had been inseparable from Wei Xiaoping from the start, Zhang Xiaoyan was very familiar with the creature, and Dahuang treated her with the same affection it showed Xiaoping.

"Dahuang, aren't you usually inseparable from Brother Xiaoping? Why did you let the enemy stab him like this?" Zhang Xiaoyan asked indignantly.

Dahuang let out a sorrowful, low "woo-woo" sound, hanging its head like a child who had done something wrong and was being scolded by an adult, weeping in shame.

"You possess the strength to move mountains and a belly full of Samadhi True Fire. Throughout the entire Barbaric Continent, there are few who would dare oppose you. To think you let the enemy stab Brother Xiaoping like this—you are truly incompetent! It’s a waste of how Brother Xiaoping treated you like his own brother!" Zhang Xiaoyan rebuked.

Dahuang let out a low growl, occasionally bumping its chin against the ground.

Just then, Master Xuanwu walked in. Hearing Zhang Xiaoyan’s tearful scolding and watching her mournfully examine Xiaoping’s wounds, he spoke up.

"Niece Xiaoyan, don't scold Dahuang," Master Xuanwu said. "The reason Dahuang couldn't stop the enemy from stabbing Wei Xiaoping, I suspect, is that it had its own difficulties. Do not be sad; Xiaoping will be fine. Your Uncle Xuanzhe has already examined and stitched his wounds. Just a moment ago, Dahuang and I infused him with our true essence; the color in his face has improved significantly. I estimate he will wake up in about ten days."

"Uncle, how exactly is Xiaoping? The wounds are bandaged, so I cannot see them. But there is blood on the bandages over his chest and back. Was he pierced through the chest by some sharp weapon?" Zhang Xiaoyan asked.

Master Xuanwu thought for a moment and said, "Xiaoping was wounded by a divine artifact, pierced from his back right through his chest."

When Zhang Xiaoyan had first seen the blood-stained bandages, she had suspected as much, but the pain was manageable as long as it remained a suspicion. Hearing Master Xuanwu confirm that a divine artifact had entered from his back and burst out through his chest, her heart felt as if it were being constricted by a rope, pulled tight from both ends, the pain deepening with every passing second.

"To be run through by a divine artifact from behind, tearing out through the chest—that is an indescribable agony. No wonder someone as strong as Brother Xiaoping fell into a coma." Zhang Xiaoyan closed her eyes in grief. Her mind conjured a vivid image: a spear or some sharp weapon thrusting into Xiaoping’s back, twisting inside his body, and then driving forward with immense force, rupturing his strong, sturdy chest, the torn muscle fibers curling outward...

"Dahuang, what is the name of the enemy who stabbed Brother Xiaoping? I want to avenge him!" Unable to bear the mental image, Zhang Xiaoyan turned, her clear, bright eyes fixed on Dahuang as she demanded an answer.

Dahuang immediately shook its head at her and growled low.

"Dahuang, why can't you tell me? Is the opponent so powerful that you fear I cannot defeat them?"

Dahuang shook its head again.

"Dahuang, is it that you don't know their name, or is there another reason?" Zhang Xiaoyan stood up, grabbed the two horns on Dahuang’s head, and shook them vigorously.

"Niece Xiaoyan, don't make things difficult for Dahuang," Master Xuanwu said, walking over to the bedside to check Xiaoping’s pulse. "I suspect the reason Dahuang didn't join Xiaoping in attacking the enemy is that it didn't want to be caught in the middle. It didn't want to hurt either side!"

Hearing this, Zhang Xiaoyan felt there was a deeper meaning to his words. In a battle between armies, both sides would surely want to kill the other as quickly as possible to minimize their own losses. Yet, Uncle Xuanwu was suggesting that Dahuang allowed Xiaoping to be stabbed just because it didn't want to hurt the other party? What was going on? Could Uncle Xuanwu have misspoke? That seemed impossible; he was a man of vast experience and worldly wisdom, always cautious in his speech. And yet, Xiaoping was in critical condition, his life hanging in the balance.

"Uncle, what did you mean when you said, 'It didn't want to hurt either side'? What are you trying to imply?" Zhang Xiaoyan asked, looking at him in confusion.

"I—did I say that? Dahuang, did I say that just now?" Master Xuanwu grew flustered, realizing he had let something slip.

"With Brother Xiaoping’s cultivation and combat skills, there are few on the Barbaric Continent who could be his match. Furthermore, the wound went from his back through his chest. Unless Brother Xiaoping let the opponent stab him, or he was ambushed, there is no way the attacker could have been so precise! But given Brother Xiaoping’s sharp instincts, he could not have been ambushed. Dahuang, tell me the truth—what happened?" Zhang Xiaoyan demanded, her tone commanding.

Dahuang remained silent, head bowed, eyes fixed on the floor, refusing to look at her as tears streamed down its face.

Seeing Dahuang’s silent, tearful misery, Zhang Xiaoyan’s own eyes welled up. She grabbed its horns again, forcing its head up. "Dahuang, tell me! You were the only one there with Brother Xiaoping when he went into battle. You are the only one who knows who stabbed him! If it is as Uncle Xuanwu says, and you didn't want to hurt anyone, that proves you know who it was. You knew them, and you couldn't bear to hurt them, so you let them stab Brother Xiaoping, didn't you? If I am right, just nod once, please!"

Dahuang kept its eyes closed, letting the tears flow, neither shaking nor nodding, allowing Zhang Xiaoyan to shake its head as she pleased.

Seeing the creature’s refusal to respond, Zhang Xiaoyan’s frustration boiled over, and she began to kick at Dahuang’s body.

Master Xuanwu, finished with the pulse check, turned to watch her. Seeing her tear-streaked face and the way she lashed out at Dahuang, he wondered: could she have developed romantic feelings for Xiaoping to be this distraught? If Dahuang continued to endure her kicks while weeping, she might actually injure the creature.

Perhaps he should just tell her that it was Wei Xiaofan who had stabbed Wei Xiaoping.

But then again, he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. He had only inferred it from the wounds on the Qilin beast and Brother Xuanzhe’s assessment. He couldn't be entirely certain it was indeed Wei Xiaofan.