Chapter 48: Forced to Become a Guide (2)

"Your Highness, they're not going to make it!" Huo Guang shouted from afar.

The surrounding soldiers, clutching their wounds, gathered around five young lieutenants. These five were all poisoned by Ding Wugu's dark aura—their bodies blackened, trembling uncontrollably.

Yan Chuan's eyelids twitched. "Mo Yuxi, fulfill your promise!"

Yan Chuan knew a little feng shui, but his cultivation was too shallow; he couldn't dispel the poison.

"Ding Wugu, detoxify them!" Mo Yuxi called out to the dwarf.

"I refuse," Ding Wugu replied with venom in his eyes. "I've suffered grave humiliation today. As the Saintess has spoken, I'll let the matter rest, but save them? Never!"

"Ding Wugu!" Mo Yuxi's eyes turned cold.

"Saintess, I am not your subordinate. Without me, you can't traverse the feng shui formation. For a handful of ants, will you disregard my feelings? I will not save them—unless I'm dead!" Ding Wugu's voice was icy.

With that, he shot a disdainful look at Yan Chuan, clearly believing that since they needed his expertise as a feng shui master to enter the formation, Mo Yuxi would not dare press him.

Mo Yuxi frowned, then let out a faint sigh.

"Qinglong, go see if there's anything you can do," Mo Yuxi said, her brows furrowed.

Her words made her stance clear: she would rather offend Yan Chuan than risk alienating Ding Wugu at such a critical juncture.

Yan Chuan said nothing, but went over to examine the five young lieutenants.

Qinglong infused one of them with a stream of azure light from his hand. The youth merely shivered, his face still black as ink.

"Saintess," Qinglong shook his head, helpless.

"It's useless," Ding Wugu sneered. "This is feng shui miasma; it's sunk into their heart channels. If you don't understand feng shui, you can't cure it."

"Your Highness!" The soldiers bowed to Yan Chuan as he approached.

These five young men were dying in his defense; naturally, Yan Chuan would not abandon them.

Reaching out, Liu Jin immediately handed him the jade brush and inkstone.

Dipping the brush, Yan Chuan quickly began writing on the five men's foreheads.

Upon seeing the jade brush, Mister Wenruo's eyes lit up from afar. "That brush? So crude—how could it create such bold characters?" He shook his head, unconvinced.

Yan Chuan ignored him, swiftly inscribing on the five foreheads.

As the brush moved, a gentle breeze arose, and streams of azure light shimmered, slowly flowing into the five bodies.

"Clear!" "Clear!" ... One after another, he wrote the character for "Clear" five times. Azure light enveloped the poisoned men.

"It really is his calligraphy? It was truly written by him!" Mister Wenruo exclaimed in awe. A wave of bitterness crossed his face; staring at the youth's immature back, he felt as if all his years of practice had been wasted.

Young Master Yang glared at Yan Chuan with envy. "Calligraphy? Such a trivial skill."

Ding Wugu also stared with hatred.

"Your Highness, will they be alright?" Huo Guang asked anxiously.

Returning the brush to Liu Jin, Yan Chuan took a deep breath. "I don't know. It's up to fate. My calligraphy can only dispel part of the miasma; the rest is up to them. Guard this place—don't move their bodies!"

"Yes!" the silver-armored troops chorused.

"Huo Guang, stay behind and tend to everyone's wounds," Yan Chuan instructed.

"Understood!"