Chapter 88: Truly Unkillable (2)

Gu Zhiheng felt his life was cursed—not just a little, but truly cursed. What sort of bizarre group was this? At this moment, he wished he could kneel and beg them to stay far away from him.

This was suffering upon suffering. All he wanted now was a simple rest, yet must they act like this? Arguments were one thing, but did they have to resort to violence?

The room wasn’t even large: one half-crippled man and four hotheads. The fact that he was still breathing was surely Heaven’s pity; otherwise, he would have died long ago.

“And you still have the nerve to just stand there staring! Why aren’t you helping me up? Do any of you have a shred of conscience?” Gu Zhiheng summoned his strength to roar at them. These four rascals simply watched, not one of them moving to assist him.

If only his body weren’t in such a state, he’d have thrown a few high-grade spirit talismans at each of them, see if they’d dare bicker in front of him then.

Quarreling was bad enough, but they had to injure him by mistake as well.

He’d been knocked to the ground by their antics, and yet they had the audacity to stand there watching. Not one of them had the decency to help him up.

In truth, Mo Han and the others were just as bewildered; they hadn’t intended to harm Gu Zhiheng. How could they have known he was lying in such a vulnerable spot? One careless attack had struck him, and down he went.

By the time they realized what had happened, Gu Zhiheng had already spent a good while venting his fury, lying on the floor with a face dark as iron.

Liu E, seeing that something was wrong, rushed over, scooped Gu Zhiheng up, and carefully placed him on the bed.

Yet Gu Zhiheng’s anger was so intense that he couldn’t hold back, coughing up a mouthful of blood. The four were instantly thrown into a panic.

This really was an accident; none of them expected such a thing. Had they known he would be harmed, they wouldn’t have started fighting in the room.

“Kid, are you alright?” Watching Gu Zhiheng spit blood again, Liu E admitted he was genuinely frightened.

The boy had coughed up blood too many times these days; if this kept up, he’d likely die from blood loss.

“Oh, now you care? When you were trading blows, you didn’t spare a thought for whether I lived or died!” A bunch of heartless fools—he truly wanted nothing to do with them.

“Don’t be angry. If you keep getting upset and coughing blood, there’ll be no saving you. Calm down,” Liu E gently patted Gu Zhiheng’s back, afraid he might push him over the edge again.

“I need to rest. All of you, out. Seeing you makes my blood boil,” Gu Zhiheng didn’t even bother to put on a face, staring at the ceiling as though life had lost all meaning.

He couldn’t lie here any longer; once they left, he intended to absorb the spirit of heaven and earth, to recover quickly.

He genuinely feared that, with a single misstep, these four troublemakers would send him off for good.

Then what Northwest journey, what family grudges—he’d be better off dead and gone.

“Alright, alright, we’ll all leave. Rest well, don’t get angry,” Mo Han, noticing Gu Zhiheng’s worsening condition, had no choice but to agree.

Resigned, the four filed out of Gu Zhiheng’s room and began arguing again in the corridor.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. You and your girlfriend were the fiercest just now, and now you have the gall to accuse me,” said Liu E with a disdainful expression and a provocative glare.

That was Liu E for you. When it wasn’t his concern, he played the gentleman everyone described. But when it was about someone he cared for, he became the mad dog Gu Zhiheng so often called him—rushing in regardless of who stood before him.

It was precisely this trait that kept Liu E close to Gu Zhiheng, the one who remained by his side.

“And you’re shameless! You claim the attack that hit Ah Heng wasn’t yours? You’re getting bolder by the day,” Mo Han retorted, relentless as ever, his mouth running without pause.

Chu Xingran chimed in now and then, helping Mo Han scold Liu E. No matter what, Gu Zhiheng ended up on the floor because of Liu E.

So the pair pressed their advantage, blaming Liu E. He’d been the one making all the noise from the start.

Only Chen Yuan was silent, crouched obediently in the corner, watching the three exchange barbs.

She secretly filmed the scene with her phone, capturing the quarrel for posterity.

They fought, she enjoyed the spectacle—it was simply delightful.

A pity, though, that Ninth Master was still bedridden; otherwise, she’d have someone to watch the show with.

No matter—she’d send the video to him later.

“Fine, I can’t out-argue you lovebirds. Shameless, the lot of you,” Liu E felt his throat dry from the quarrel and decided to return to his room for a drink.

So what if they were a few years younger? So what if they had girlfriends?

What was there to show off about? He wasn’t envious—not one bit.

Outside, the others bickered or watched the show, while inside, Gu Zhiheng desperately absorbed the spirit energy. In no time, the pain left his body completely.

About an hour later, Gu Zhiheng rose from bed, stood by the window, and gazed outside, his face cold as frost.

His eyes brimmed with murderous intent, nearly spilling over. The corners of his mouth curled slightly as he flashed to the doorway.

Hidden, he watched the group, who had promised to stop fighting but were still squabbling, and Chen Yuan, sneakily recording them.

Remarkable. While he was inside, barely clinging to life, they were out here happily bantering.

Excellent—he wasn’t even regarded as a person.

“Well, how energetic! No sign of fatigue from all that arguing,” he said languidly, revealing himself and standing before them.

His gaze swept over the four like a hungry tiger stalking prey in the night, his eyes locking onto them.

“What? Just seeing me stops your quarrel? Go on, I’ll watch a while!” Hah, these chameleon-like fools.

He was merely returning to his rightful state, yet they stared at him, bewildered.

“Ah...Ah Heng, you’re better?” Mo Han stammered, uncertain as he looked at Gu Zhiheng.

What a miracle—he’d been on the verge of death only moments ago, and now he was perfectly fine.

Chu Xingran felt as if she were dreaming. She pinched Mo Han hard, watching him grimace in pain, finally convinced this was real.

“Fight? Watch the show? Why are you looking at me?” The triple threat question silenced them all.

Gu Zhiheng looked rather intimidating now; they had no way to respond.

Moreover, as soon as he appeared, his aura shifted dramatically—his cultivation had clearly advanced.

Fearing for their lives, the four wisely stood off to the side.