Chapter 73: Bai Ze

Chapter 73: Baize

"What is your name, Contingency."

The youth's face was pale with terror, his throat bobbing involuntarily.

His buttocks scooted back several inches in haste, striving to put distance between himself and that long saber; feigning composure, he said, "My name is Yang Baize. I am no Contingency."

"Baize? Not a bad name,"

Li Jun lifted his chin, his expression mocking. "But next time you tell a lie like that, remember to secure the thing in your bosom first."

Yang Baize's already paper-pale face suddenly turned livid; he instinctively lowered his eyes, his shoulders twitching as if wanting to raise a hand to cover his chest.

But the next moment, he discovered that aside from mottled bloodstains, there was nothing else on his chest.

Severe pain radiated from the severed stumps of both arms; only then did the youth realize he had been tricked, his face a twisting mask of grief and hatred.

"Yo, looks like you really were hiding something. Is it a slice of your ancestor Yang Zhan's brain tissue?"

Li Jun shifted his body, settling into a more comfortable position.

The abdominal wound itched and ached unbearably; the Great Perfection Golden Bell Shield was desperately repairing that front-to-back transparent hole.

"Yang Huchou's stratagem of secretly crossing Chencang wasn't brilliant, but it was ruthless enough—sacrificing so many lives, including his own, to serve as your cover. Abandoning the carriage to save the general; no wonder those people were led in circles."

"If we three hadn't happened to stumble upon this fight to the death, you'd probably have escaped long ago, right?"

The young man bit his lip until it bled, head bowed, not uttering a word.

Li Jun's gaze fell upon him, and he smiled with deep meaning.

"To survive until now with both arms severed—you must have had some life-sustaining devices implanted beforehand, no? So Yang Huchou planned this all along?"

"Hand over the thing, and I'll give you a way to live."

Seeing Li Jun lay it all out, the shoulders Yang Baize carried like a mountain suddenly lightened a fraction; he leaned back against the grand master's chair, assuming the exact same splayed-legged posture as Li Jun.

"My Yang clan's able-bodied men have nearly died out for this ancestral bequest. Do you think I would hand it over just to cling to a wretched life?"

The young man shook his head, flinging away the hair strands stuck to his forehead by blood, revealing a brow etched with resolve.

"Since the men are all dead, what use is keeping this slice of brain tissue?"

Yang Baize replied without hesitation, "The able-bodied are dead, but the women and children remain. This is the hope for the Yang clan's rise."

Li Jun raised his left hand and patted his thigh, the sharp crack sounding like applause.

"Admirable courage, but your brain is lacking. If I kill you now, I still get this half-slice, while you throw your life away for nothing. The result is the same for me, but for you, the difference is vast."

"What is there to fear in death? At least I, Yang Baize, have no shame before my ancestors, no shame before my clansmen! You want to take it? Then rip open my viscera and take it!"

The young man suddenly bowed his body, jerking his head like a young beast at death's door, fishing out that fragment painted with a heron from his bosom, his lips and teeth working furiously to roll the fragment into his belly.

That fierce, stubborn expression, in Li Jun's eyes, looked exactly like a tree-shaking ant with its antennae torn off.

"Sigh, this blood of yours still isn't cold enough; it needs more tempering."

Li Jun shook his head and sighed, laughing at himself, and called out, "Hey, swallow slower. Give me half that heron; the rest I'll let you take."

Yang Baize's body trembled at the words, but his tearing at the scroll didn't pause in the slightest; rather, it grew faster, choking him until blue veins bulged at his temples.

Li Jun saw through him like fire; he read that petty scheme transparently, his tone turning cold in an instant, "If you think you can leverage this old man's kindness to drive up the price, you're overthinking it. Believe it or not, I'll send you to meet your ancestor Yang Zhan right now?!"

"Pah!"

Seeing his thoughts exposed, Yang Baize immediately stopped, spitting out a mouthful of paper scraps.

He'd swallowed for half a day, but what went down was only the auspicious cloud patterns around the scroll; the heron in the center remained perfectly intact.

He fixed his gaze on Li Jun and said slowly, "You are a good man."

"Because I'm a good man, you use this petty trick to coerce me?" Li Jun's face was cold with ridicule.

Yang Baize shook his head vigorously, voice strained, "I just wanted to gamble once, to see if I could give value to the sacrifices of my clan's brothers and elders."

"What if I watch you swallow it down?"

Li Jun deliberately frowned; having his compassion hooked by a wet-behind-the-ears brat made him lose face somewhat.

"Then I'd die at peace too. At least I tried."

Yang Baize suddenly sat up, knees slamming onto the blood-strewn bluestone bricks, kowtowing respectfully toward Li Jun, voice trembling, "Thank you."

Li Jun's body jerked as if electrocuted, scrambling sideways in a flash, lips pressed tight, unable to speak a word.

This damnable world—the robbed actually thanks the robber.

Weakness is the original sin.

In others' eyes, am I not also a sinner?

Li Jun let out a long sigh; the raging fury in his chest made his voice exceptionally hoarse. "My name is Li Jun. Consider this borrowed from you. I will return it."

"No need. In ten years, I'll discard this ancestral bequest like a worn shoe!"

The young man shook his head, his tone brimming with confidence.

"You think you can become the Top Scholar?"

"Why not?"

Li Jun raised an eyebrow. "Even with your ancestor's brain tissue slice, I fear it's still as hard as ascending to heaven."

"This thing is the Yang clan's hope, but not Yang Baize's hope. These books—I can read them myself!"

Every word resonant, striking the ground with force.

Even one with a will as steely as Li Jun felt his heart waver at this moment.

The young man's frail, emaciated body swayed as he stood; his spine straightened, and he grinned toward the main hall.

This time he didn't use Northern Mandarin, but shouted at Li Jun in a thick Shu accent:

"You're already a good man. A kid like me can see it clear. What's there for you to feel guilty about? The world is just like this, but I can change it! Won't be long now—you just wait and see."

The voice was clear and bright, yet carried a heroic, soaring ambition.

Li Jun stared blankly as Yang Baize's figure vanished into the night; that half-heron was pinned under a chair leg, the fracture covered in tooth marks from tearing.

Right then, the long-broken communication finally restored.

Amidst deafening explosions, two distinctly different shrill voices came from left and right ears.

One was Zhao Qingxia's roar; the other, Gu Yong's heart-rending howl.

"Gu Jia! Gu Jia! Damn the immortals! Anyone still breathing? Hurry up and save this Young Master!"

"Rested enough. Time to get to work."

Li Jun shook his aching, noise-battered head, bracing on his knees to stand.

He tore a strip of cloth from his tattered martial robe, wrapped it around his waist, drew his saber, and strode forward.