Chapter - 499 A Gentleman is Gullible Because of His Righteous Conduct (8) (2/2)

Zhang Wuji patted his waist to show that he did not carry any weapon before walking behind the nun to enter the hut. He saw Zhou Zhiruo sitting by a table on the side; her cheek rested on her palm. She was lost in thought so that she did not turn her head although she heard him. The nun poured a cup of green tea and set it on the table then she retreated and gently closed the door. There were no other people in the room. A flickering white candle on the table illuminated Zhou Zhiruo's plain dark green attire. The overall scene was sad and gloomy.

Zhang Wuji's heart ached. In a low voice he said, ”How is Song Shige's condition? Let me take a look at him.”

Without turning her head, Zhou Zhiruo coldly said, ”His skull is smashed, his injury is very heavy. Most likely he won't survive. I don't even know if he would survive the night.”

”You know my medical skill is not too bad,” Zhang Wuji said, ”I will do my best to save him.”

”Why do you want to save him?” Zhou Zhiruo asked.

Zhang Wuji was startled. ”I did you wrong,” he said, ”In my heart, I am very ashamed. Moreover, you have showed me mercy today by letting me live. Song Shige is injured; I want to make it up to you somehow.”

”You showed me mercy first, do you think I did not know it?” Zhou Zhiruo replied, ”If you can bring Song Dage back to life, how do you want me to repay?”

”A life for a life,” Zhang Wuji replied, ”I am asking you to show mercy on my Yifu.”

Pointing toward the inner chamber Zhou Zhiruo indifferently said, ”He is inside.”

Zhang Wuji walked toward the inside chamber. But as he saw the room was pitch-black without any light, he took the candlestick and went in. Zhou Zhiruo did not move; she was still sitting motionless with her cheek on her palm.

Zhang Wuji raised the dark green mosquito net up. Under the candlelight, he saw that Song Qingshu's eyes were bulging, his facial features [orig. 'wu3guan1' – five sensory organs: nose, eyes, lips, tongue, ears] were distorted, making his countenance hideous. His breathing was very weak and he had lost consciousness long ago. Zhang Wuji held his wrist only to find his pulse was chaotic; sometimes fast, sometimes slow. His skin felt ice-cold. If he was not treated immediately, indeed he would not survive the night. Zhang Wuji lightly touched his skull and felt that four pieces of Song Qingshu's skull, the forehead and the back of his head, were disintegrated. Zhang Wuji thought about the fierceness of his Yu Er Bo's [second (older) uncle] pair of fists. This 'shuang feng guan er' stance was backed by a hundred percent internal energy. If Song Qingshu did not have a very strong foundation in internal energy cultivation, he would have died on the spot.

Zhang Wuji let down the mosquito net. He put down the candlestick on the table, sat on a bamboo chair by the table, and was deep in thought, thinking how he was going to treat the injury. Song Qingshu's injury was fatal; even with all his might, Zhang Wuji's confidence only reached 30%.

It took him about the time to cook rice to consider all options carefully; and then he stood up and went out the room. ”Mrs. Song,” he said, ”Whether or not Song Shige's life would be saved, I find it very difficult to assert. Would you let me give it a try?”

”If you can't save him, nobody else in this world can,” Zhou Zhiruo answered.

Zhang Wuji said, ”Even if his life is spared, I am afraid his face, his martial art will not return to his former days. His brain was also shaken badly. I am afraid … I am afraid even speaking will not be easy for him.”