Chapter 235 — A Youth Borrows a Boat
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 5
Shen Mu recalled the map of the Desolate Ruins he had once seen: one place there was called the Eastern Heavenly Gate. Besides it, three other places bore the name of Heavenly Gate as well — one each for east, south, west and north.
Just then the Dragon Qilin halted, sniffed the air and said, "There is the smell of blood."
"This creature is a big dog, not a Dragon Qilin!" the Demon King Dutian thought.
Something stirred in Shen Mu's heart. "The smell of blood? Let us take a look."
The Dragon Qilin followed the scent onward, and after a while Shen Mu saw in the distance an old Daoist sprawled beneath a tree, panting hoarsely for breath.
"Daoist Lingjing!"
Shen Mu cried out in astonishment, hurriedly calling the Dragon Qilin to a halt. "He has laid a prohibition all around; do not step within it."
Daoist Lingjing raised his head weakly and glanced at him, drew a breath, then suddenly coughed violently and spat out a mouthful of blood. "The Sword God's disciple has a sharp eye. I am wounded, and to keep the strange beasts from jostling me, I laid a sealing prohibition around this place."
"Daoist," said Shen Mu, "I know a fair bit of medicine. Do you need help?"
Daoist Lingjing lifted a hand and withdrew the seal; he tried to rise, but could not move, and said, panting, "Come over, then."
Shen Mu had the Dragon Qilin walk forward to the tree, then jumped down from its head and examined Daoist Lingjing's wounds. The old man was badly hurt — wounded, most likely, by Little Tathagata.
The crux was that Daoist Lingjing was advanced in years, his flesh far weaker than once it had been, so that these wounds had turned grave and would hardly heal of themselves.
Shen Mu pondered, took out dragon saliva to treat his external injuries, then brought out several Spirit Buddha Pills to mend the damage to Daoist Lingjing's spirit.
He rummaged through the Taotie Pouch. He had bought certain medicinal ingredients from the Grand Academy against future need; there were not many, but they should be enough to refine a healing elixir for Daoist Lingjing.
At once Shen Mu set about refining the elixir. His hands moved swiftly, with a mastery bordering on the divine, and before long a whole furnace of elixir was ready; he had Daoist Lingjing swallow it.
Daoist Lingjing's color improved somewhat, and he said in surprise, "To think the Sword God's disciple should be so accomplished in the healing arts! Young friend, how would you like to be my disciple? I have a great many enemies; with you at my side I might keep myself safe. Rest assured, the Old Sword God may be overbearing, but what I can teach you is no worse."
Shen Mu shook his head. "I am the Holy Master of the Tiansheng Sect; I cannot take you as my master."
"So you are the Demon Sect Master."
Daoist Lingjing struggled to his feet, his face grave, and made him a salute. "I had thought myself a generation above you; it turns out we are brothers of the same rank. Lingjing greets the Demon Sect Master."
Shen Mu hastily returned the salute. "Brother Lingjing is too courteous. Your wounds are no longer dangerous, but to root out the hidden injury will take some further tending."
Daoist Lingjing laughed. "It seems those two Fengdu coins I gave you were well spent. The Old Sword God still owes me two Fengdu coins — though the scoundrel will never repay them, I expect. A stingy creature; he even cut off one of my fingers, back then."
He opened his right hand. "Look."
The ring finger of his right hand was gone, cut away by a sword.
"Had that finger not been severed, how could Little Tathagata of Little Leiyin Temple have wounded me so grievously? Still, he took grave hurt himself this time. Heh heh. With no miracle physician at his side, the fellow will have to crawl back into Little Leiyin Temple and sweat it out two or three years before he recovers."