Zhang Buku followed the sparrow onward, passing through the mountain forests. Though his injuries were severe, his physique was strong. He had suffered wounds like these before; he only needed a month to recover.
Yet he had not rested for long before setting out again. The exhaustion in his body crashed against his will like the tide. After walking several miles, he was nearly unable to hold on and wanted to collapse for some sleep.
The sparrow's chirping kept coming from ahead, as though urging him onward, and he had no choice but to continue.
Gradually, Zhang Buku felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier, while his steps became increasingly leaden.
Gu An did not help him, merely urged him on without cease.
Who knew how much time passed.
Zhang Buku finally could not endure any longer. He toppled headfirst onto a slope and completely lost consciousness.
The sun set and the moon rose.
One night passed.
Zhang Buku's eyelids trembled as his consciousness gradually awakened. He slowly opened his eyes. Sunlight spilled over him, making him feel warm.
Several little birds were perched on him at that moment. Sensing him stir, they all flew away.
Zhang Buku opened his mouth, only to find his throat parched. He struggled to climb up and looked around, but the sparrow that had led the way was nowhere in sight.
His brow furrowed. He was preparing to head down the mountain and find somewhere to clean his wounds.
Suddenly, he sensed a faint yet discernible demonic aura. He had never felt such an aura before, and for some reason, he wanted to approach it.
After hesitating for a moment, he started walking toward it.
He made his way around the slope and reached the other side of the mountain. Parting the weeds before