Chapter 33: Corrosive Heart Poison

Chapter 33: Corrosive Heart Poison

Another day passed. Li Chaofeng, who had been silent atop his camel, suddenly opened his eyes and warned the three beside him.

“There are people ahead—four individuals on five horses. They’re moving fast, as if pursued.”

Ji Bingyan narrowed his eyes toward the horizon. “How far?”

Li Chaofeng calculated quickly, then nodded. “Judging by the wind, two to three li away.”

Chu Liuxiang sighed regretfully from his camel. “Looks like we couldn’t shake them after all.”

Ji Bingyan had exhausted every method to evade detection across the desert, but as Li Chaofeng noted, the desert offered no hiding places. Their small group was conspicuous, especially with a camel caravan of over a dozen beasts. Escaping notice was impossible without leaving the sands entirely.

Ji Bingyan ordered the caravan to halt beneath a sand dune with partial shade while Li Chaofeng remained alert.

“Four people? Dead rooster, you scared?” Hu Tiehua scoffed, his face twisted in disdain. After all, back in their prime, they’d faced down hundreds without flinching.

“The Swallow and Butterfly Twin Wings, Fragrant Blossoms Fill the Mortal Realm.” Their trio had always been the most synchronized team. Chu Liuxiang’s unmatched lightness skill, Hu Tiehua’s mastery of close combat, and Ji Bingyan’s tactical mind made them a force capable of storming even dragon’s lairs.

Now, a decade later, Chu Liuxiang was the world-renowned “Thief Lord,” Hu Tiehua had transformed from a mere insect to a dragon, and though Ji Bingyan’s martial prowess might’ve stagnated as a Lanzhou wealthy official, his mind remained sharp.

Chu Liuxiang shook his head. “Flower-crazy fool, didn’t you hear Li Chaofeng? Those four are being driven toward us!”

Hu Tiehua shrugged. “Even if a hundred followed, it’d be the same.”

Ji Bingyan sighed at Hu Tiehua’s confidence. “Never thought I’d see you this arrogant. But why haven’t I heard your name in the Jianghu all these years?”

“I’ve been low-key.”

Hu Tiehua’s humility wasn’t from hiding from enemies, but from evading women. His martial arts improved, but not enough to escape Gao Yanan’s pursuit.

Li Chaofeng blinked. “Only four. No riders behind them.”

The caravan halted on Shi Tuo’s command. Analyzing aloud, Chu Liuxiang said, “These four must be special.”

Ji Bingyan agreed. “Naturally. Being chased suggests weak martial skills, but being driven toward us implies they carry something we’d fear or value.”

Hu Tiehua paused. “Wait—we entered the desert for one thing. Snake-brat, are any of the four women?”

Chu Liuxiang paled, but Li Chaofeng shook his head. “If a woman reeked of male sweat, I couldn’t tell. But they’re all men.”

He suspected these were Peng Clan guards escorting the Star of Paradise, but stayed silent.

As hoofbeats thundered closer, the four riders soon emerged—Central Plains couriers in martial garb, swords at their waists. Their faces, caked in sand, twisted with terror as they galloped past the caravan without glancing aside.

“They’re poisoned,” Li Chaofeng observed. “Hallucinating.” Their eyes, though forward-facing, were glassy and unfocused.

Chu Liuxiang leapt from his camel. “We save them!”

Ji Bingyan cautioned, “Could be a trap. Remember those two earlier?”

Hu Tiehua followed, retorting, “Since we ignored them before, we must save these. Right, stinky old bug?”

Chu Liuxiang’s white robes flashed like a beam of light, Hu Tiehua’s black attire like a dark arrow. Within heartbeats, they reached the riders. But five horsewhinnies rang out—the steeds collapsed from exhaustion. The riders rolled, then sprang up, still slashing wildly at empty air.

Hu Tiehua frowned. “Five Tiger Severing Gate Blade style. Peng family men.”

Chu Liuxiang nodded. “Two apiece—strike their pressure points.”

Li Chaofeng’s assessment proved accurate. The couriers saw not two foes, but endless mirages. Even Chu Liuxiang’s speed couldn’t match Hu Tiehua’s now. As the couriers flailed at illusions, the duo darted behind them, sealing their acupoints. The four slumped unconscious.

Ji Bingyan arrived with the caravan, fending off a circling eagle with a stone. Observing their terrified, twitching faces, Hu Tiehua asked Li Chaofeng, “Sure it’s poison, not dehydration?”

Li Chaofeng checked their pupils, nodding. “Dilated eyes, drooling, strength intact—opium poisoning.”

Ji Bingyan pressed, “You know this toxin?”

Li Chaofeng hesitated. “Opium enslaves through addiction. Escape requires willpower alone. Withdrawal begins as skin-deep itching, but festers inward. Resist, and the heart heals. Fail, and one might rip out their own—or a loved one’s—organs for relief.”

Hu Tiehua blanched. “Like my drinking?”

Li Chaofeng’s glare chilled him. “You’d endure a year’s abstinence to drown in wine later. But these men? One day’s craving could drive them to carve their own livers out.”

Silence fell. The trio finally grasped the horror: if fleshly itch drove men to scratch raw, what of an inner torment?

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end