Chapter - 125 Acupuncture And Medicines Unable to Remedy (7) (1/2)

Knitting his brows into a frown, the boy did not wait for the latest group to approach him. Instead, he announced in a loud voice: ”Mr Hu has contracted smallpox. He cannot even help himself at this moment, so he is unable to treat your ailments. Please seek another physician as soon as possible, so that your treatments are not delayed.”

When the latest group finally reached the row of huts, Zhang Wuji saw that it consisted of five men. Looking as pale as paper, without any visible wounds on their bodies or patches of blood on their clothes, the men had probably suffered internal injuries. Their leader, a tall and fat fellow, nodded at the bald Jian Jie and the thin man who threw the golden flower. Then, the three of them exchanged a bitter laugh.

They know one another! thought Zhang Wuji in surprise. His curiosity aroused, he asked: ”Did all of you fall victim to the owner of the golden flower as well?”

”That is correct,” answered the fat man.

Then, the swarthy man, who had been the first to arrive, added, ”What is your name, Little Brother? How are you related to Mr Hu?”

”I am Mr Hu's patient,” Zhang Wuji replied. ”When Mr Hu says that he will not treat you, he really means it. Thus, there is no purpose for you to continue hanging around here.”

As they spoke, four more people arrived. Some came in carriages, while others rode horses, but all of them requested an audience with Hu Qingniu.

Zhang Wuji became even more puzzled: The Butterfly Valley is so remote that besides the members of the Evil Sect, very few people in the realm of the rivers and lakes know about its location. These fellows come from Kongdong and Mount Hua, so they are definitely not related to the Sect. How did all of them end up being injured at the same time? And how did all of them find their way here with such coincidence? Then, another thought entered his mind: Since the owner of the golden flower is such a formidable pugilist, it would not have been difficult for him to take these people's lives. But why did he just wound them grievously?

Some of the wounded visitors continued to plead for help, while others remained totally quiet, but all fourteen of them flatly refused to leave. As evening fell around them, they crowded into one of the huts for shelter. When one of the pages served Zhang Wuji his dinner, the boy went ahead and ate it without bothering about the visitors. Then, he lit an oil lamp and resumed his reading. Turning a blind eye to the fourteen, he said to himself:Since I am learning Mr Hu's methods and techniques of treatment, I may as well copy him and ignore the dying too.

Quiet settled on Butterfly Valley. Except for the occasional sound of Zhang Wuji turning a page of his book and the heavy breathing of the wounded visitors, no other noises were heard. Suddenly, light footfalls sounded along the path outside as two people walked slowly towards the row of huts.

A moment later, the clear, crisp voice of a girl cut through the stillness of the night: ”Mother, there is a light in the house ahead. We have arrived.” Her high pitch indicated that she was very young in age.

By and by, an older voice asked, ”Child, are you tired?”

”No, I am not,” the little girl replied. ”Mother, you will not hurt after the physician cures your illness.”

”Yes,” answered the woman. ”But I do not know if the physician is willing to treat me.”