Why Are You Walking So Fast, Fellow Daoist Yang?

Clang!

Yang An's hand trembled, and the stick fell to the ground, making a sound like clashing metal.

He himself froze in place, his expression strange.

Only then did he realize that the stick, which had looked like nothing more than a branch, revealed upon closer inspection a layer of bark-like wrinkles on its surface.

This...

He looked at the stick, then at his own hand, and a wave of nausea rose within him.

I... I'm dirty?

No one could have imagined that the stick's true form would be so... ingeniously unconventional!

Yang An felt as miserable as though he had stepped in shit.

At this moment, Pan Yu had already rushed over to Pan Shi, helped him up from the ground, and prepared to leave while they had the chance. Yet Yang An had not come over.

The two turned back toward Yang An, who had stopped in his tracks, not knowing why he had suddenly halted.

"Fellow Daoist?"

Pan Shi wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and called out tentatively.

Yang An came back to his senses. This was the time to flee for their lives; he could not delay.

Yet he could not help glancing at the stick on the ground again. Hesitation immediately appeared on his face, and he was deeply conflicted.

Take it?

Or not take it?

Though this thing was disgusting, it was still a dharma artifact.

Even if he did not use it himself, he could give it to someone else.

They were heading to Xi Yue River to attend the Communal Feast Convention, and he had nothing valuable on him. Perhaps he could trade this thing for something useful.

But whenever he thought of the stick's absurdly bizarre origin, Yang An wanted nothing more than to leave it behind and walk away.

In the end, however, he frowned, bent down, grabbed a handful of weeds, wrapped them around the stick, and picked it up.

"Honestly... a single penny can stump even a hero!"

Suppressing his nausea as he picked the stick back up, Yang An suddenly glanced at Pan Yu in the distance. A good idea immediately came to him, and he quickly caught up to Pan Yu and Pan Shi.

Pan Shi's injuries were not light, but fortunately, he could still walk. The three soon left the place.

Only after a quarter of an hour, when they had gone far away, did they stop somewhere to rest for the moment.

Pan Shi took a medicinal pill from his robes and tossed it into his mouth, then began regulating his breath. Before long, pain filled his face, and his body began trembling without stop.

Yang An was initially taken aback, but then he understood.

The price of Pan Shi's cultivation technique must have begun to manifest. On top of that, taking medicinal pills also came with a price, and now was the time for him to endure it.

Yang An subtly shifted his feet, putting a little more distance between himself and Pan Shi.

There was no particular reason for it. It was merely because a gust of wind happened to blow from Pan Shi's direction, carrying over an indescribable stench.

During the earlier battle with that Daoist, Pan Shi had been hit squarely by the yellow wind blown from the stick. That was the source of this stench, and it had yet to disperse even now.

Even Pan Yu, who stood beside Pan Shi, could not help frowning and taking several steps back in disgust.

"Fellow Daoist Pan Yu!"

Taking advantage of the moment, Yang An called out to Pan Yu and walked over to her, raising the stick in his hand.

When Yang An approached, the image of him decisively setting that Daoist ablaze flashed through Pan Yu's mind. An inexplicable trace of panic rose in her heart.

Earlier, when the three of them had been trying to skirt around the village, she had been so close to Yang An and felt nothing.

Yet now, his approach made her heartbeat unconsciously quicken by several beats.

"What is it, Fellow Daoist Yang?"

Pan Yu tried her best not to look up at Yang An's face or eyes. Her gaze lowered slightly as she hurriedly asked.

"When we left just now, I picked up that fellow's dharma artifact. But it's inconvenient to carry in my hand, so I'd like to ask Fellow Daoist Pan Yu for a favor. How about storing it in your Small Sumeru Bag for the time being?"

Yang An was just as nervous inside. With a guilty conscience like a thief's, he did not dare look at Pan Yu while speaking.

She shouldn't be able to recognize what this thing is, right?

"Sure, no problem!"

Pan Yu agreed readily. Without the slightest hesitation, she took out her Small Sumeru Bag and put the stick from Yang An's hand into it.

Seeing that Pan Yu had not noticed anything unusual, Yang An also let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you, Fellow Daoist Pan Yu."

Pan Shi was still regulating his breath and recovering, so the two could only wait.

About half an hour later, Pan Shi finally finished regulating his breath and opened his eyes.

"Ugh... What is that smell? It reeks!"

The instant he opened his eyes, Pan Shi's features twisted together, and he nearly blacked out from a sudden wave of stench.

When he looked up, Yang An and Pan Yu had both, without prior agreement, moved several meters away from him. Especially his own junior sister—there was not the slightest attempt to conceal the disgust in her eyes.

Pan Shi seemed to realize something and lowered his head to sniff himself.

The result was that he nearly rolled his eyes and ascended to heaven on the spot.

The source of the stench was coming from his own body.

In an instant, Pan Shi understood why.

He must have been tainted by the foul wind blown from that Daoist's stick, which was why he now reeked to high heaven.

He had been caught up in battle before and had no time to pay attention to it. Only after leaving the fight did he finally notice.

That damned bastard!

At this moment, Pan Shi wanted nothing more than to grind that Daoist's bones to dust and scatter his ashes.

He hurriedly rose from the ground, but as he did, he saw Yang An and Pan Yu both take another step back in unspoken unison.

"I... I..."

Pan Shi suddenly found himself at a loss for words, filled with grievance and standing there helplessly.

Fortunately, Yang An swiftly raised a hand and pointed to the left.

"Fellow Daoist Pan, there should be a river nearby."

Hearing Yang An's words, Pan Shi finally noticed the sound of flowing water coming from not far away, and he was instantly overjoyed.

It was as though he had found a savior.

"Thank you, Fellow Daoist Yang! Please wait a moment. I'll be back shortly!"

With that, Pan Shi immediately ran toward the sound of water like a flying arrow and soon vanished from sight. Not long after, splashing sounds came from the direction in which he had disappeared.

He was gone for a full half hour!

Only when Pan Shi reappeared, soaked from head to toe, had the stench clinging to him finally faded considerably. Even his complexion looked much better.

He ran toward the two with a smile on his face, only to be abruptly stopped by Pan Yu while he was still several meters away.

"Stop, stop, stop! Senior Brother, don't come any closer!"

Pan Yu still wore an undisguised look of disgust as she stretched out a hand to keep him far away.

"..."

Pan Shi shot her a fierce glare, but could only stop helplessly.

The stench on him simply would not wash away. Even though he had nearly scrubbed a layer of skin off himself, he could not completely remove it. It truly was rather revolting.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Fellow Daoists. Let's go."

Pan Shi said apologetically, then could only walk ahead alone to continue leading the way.

The three set out once more toward Xi Yue River, though they still kept a distance of two or three meters between front and back.

After walking for a short while, Pan Shi finally could not help complaining.

"We must have run into a Filth Daoist. Those disgusting bastards specialize in crooked and unorthodox paths, and they love using filthy things to refine dharma artifacts just to disgust people!"

"That fellow just now—his stick must have been the same. Who knows what foul thing it was refined from!"

"Pah! Disgusting! Truly disgusting!"

"If I encounter a Filth Daoist again, I definitely won't let those bastards off!"

Walking in front, Pan Shi kept talking, venting the anger in his heart.

But when he raised his eyes, he saw Yang An suddenly rush up from behind, overtake him in a flash, and leave behind only his retreating figure.

Yang An suddenly seemed to be in quite a hurry.

"Fellow Daoist Yang, why are you walking so fast?"

"Huh? Junior sister, why did you stop walking?"