Someone was unwilling to accept deep down that he was one of the reasons his teammates had been so badly injured. However, what he found even harder to accept was still to come.
Zhang Yuan had assumed that after killing a large bug that was at least a minor boss, if not an elite monster, he would surely have met the conditions for leveling up. At the very least, his experience should have skyrocketed. But when he opened his status panel, he stood there in a daze as if he had been hit by a spell of stupidity. He didn't even react when drool trickled from his open mouth.
What he saw on his status panel was earth-shattering in the worst possible way—there had been no change! Yes, absolutely no change. Not even a punctuation mark had been added or removed.
Zhang Yuan had always been obsessed with and eagerly anticipating leveling up by killing monsters. He had been looking forward to his "first pot of gold" for a long time. One of the important reasons he had comforted himself by saying this trip wasn't so bad was that he could follow the team around and freeload off them along the way.
In his imagination, he was like the big boss of a gold-farming group, following the Flaming Fist mercenaries as they crushed every monster in their path. Leeching experience was only natural, and snatching a last hit or two wasn't impossible either. By the time they reached Nashkel, he would have leveled up several times and become vastly stronger. Then, during the escort mission, he would at least have the strength to protect himself no matter what danger they encountered.
Yet all his hopes had come crashing down at this moment. No matter how loudly his little schemes clattered away, the system, receiving no experience points, was like water without a source or a tree without roots. It simply lay there motionless like a salted fish.
Zhang Yuan couldn't accept this outcome no matter what. Furious and anxious, he felt his anger rush straight to the top of his head. He clenched his right fist and slammed it hard into a tree trunk beside the road.
Several teammates who noticed the commotion looked over, including Skar and Sori.
All five of the stupid bugs had been killed, and all that remained was treating the wounds. Since they happened to see someone throwing a fit, those two men, who had nothing better to do anyway, came over.
The dwarf who had fought beside them arrived first. He patted Zhang Yuan on the waist—for why he patted his waist instead of his shoulder, ask the dwarf yourself, if you weren't afraid of his axe—then walked over to Skar and Sori and began vividly recounting the fierce battle between the three men and the Digging Worm.
Although he couldn't run as fast as a reporter, the dwarf was genuinely good at telling stories. He had managed to turn a minor skirmish into a dramatic and stirring tale of ups and downs.
Of course, although the people and events in the dwarf's account were somewhat exaggerated, he hadn't twisted the facts. And Skar, an old hand at this sort of thing, could understand what had really happened.
Seeing Zhang Yuan still standing there woodenly, Skar knew he had been shaken and didn't disturb him. Before turning to leave, he tossed out a sentence: "You did everything you could. Minsc's injuries aren't your fault."
Oh, so he thought I was blaming myself when I shouted earlier? The corner of Zhang Yuan's mouth twitched, but he couldn't exactly force an explanation.
His waist was patted again. He knew without looking that it was the dwarf.
"What?" Zhang Yuan asked irritably.
"Don't be sad. With a priest's divine magic, Minsc won't be left with any disabilities. Come have a drink with us." The dwarf was quite the optimist.
"Drink? I'm going to drink my fill today!" someone said through gritted teeth.
It wasn't until Zhang Yuan crawled into his tent to sleep that night that he finally gave up on his sliver of hope. He repeatedly checked his status panel, but alas, no change was no change. Looking at it a thousand times wouldn't make flowers bloom on it.
After being angry for the entire day, Zhang Yuan was ultimately exhausted by his own rage. He stuffed himself into his sleeping bag and fell into a deep sleep.
In his dreams, he sometimes became Bhaal's Son, using strength and magic to destroy one opponent and enemy after another, turning their lives and blood into nourishment for his own growth. The more he fought, the braver he became; the more he killed, the stronger he grew. One day, he crossed that sea of blood, donned a crown of bone, and sat upon the throne of slaughter as the mountains cried out his name and kings and sages prostrated themselves before him;
At other times, he became a weak commoner, with even his existing class levels vanishing without a trace. Every day he did nothing but beg for food in the dust, unable to control his own fate in the slightest. His dignity was discarded like a worn-out shoe, and after his death, he remained unknown, every trace he had left in the world fading like dew beneath the rising sun.
(PS: This section was actually imitating a certain baboon. Did anyone notice?)
After tossing and turning, Zhang Yuan awoke from his dream. He sat up and looked outside. In the dead of night, the silent sky was like a vast sheet of pure black velvet spread across the heavens, embracing everything above with its broad and gentle bosom.
The constellations representing the gods and Selûne's softly glowing moon hung low in the firmament. At that moment, the divine realms, normally unknowable and invisible, seemed almost within reach.
Zhang Yuan put on his coat, sat alone on his sleeping bag, and pulled the phone from his pack to point it at the night sky.
At that instant, the brilliant stars of Faerûn and gentle Selûne were recorded for the first time by a product of human technology from another world.
As Zhang Yuan looked through the photos he had just taken, he eventually came across pictures of his parents. His nose gradually began to sting, but his finger refused to stop swiping until there were no more pictures left.
He turned off the phone and went to sleep, even though tears had already covered his face.
Early the next morning, the Flaming Fist squad continued on its journey. Minsc, whose left foot had been badly injured the day before, was fine after treatment, but Skar still settled him in the baggage wagon to help him recover.
Seeing Minsc made Zhang Yuan feel somewhat embarrassed. If he hadn't spaced out at the beginning and missed the opportunity to make a move, Minsc wouldn't have needed to take such a risk.
He walked up to Minsc. "How's your injury? Sorry about yesterday, I—"
Minsc cut him off at once. "You rushed over to save me without regard for the danger. You're a good man." As he spoke, he extended a fist and thumped Zhang Yuan on the chest, then thumped his own chest as well. "Minsc is a good man too. We killed that stinking bug."
The optimistic and forthright man before him was incredibly infectious. Even Zhang Yuan, who had just gone through such extreme ups and downs and was still carrying a knot of frustration in his heart, was made to laugh. He reached out and thumped both his own chest and Minsc's in return.
"Hey, why are you two grown men fondling each other's boobs?" A slick voice suddenly came from the side. It was Lawrence, a middle-aged veteran thief. His hands were quite skilled, and he was a competent rogue as well.
Zhang Yuan nearly choked to death on the old thief's teasing. Minsc, however, was much more direct. He clenched his fist, nearly the size of a cooking pot, and raised it threateningly. "As soon as my foot heals, I'll challenge you to a duel."
This time, Lawrence was the one who panicked. A barbarian wielding a greatsword wanted to duel a thief who used daggers? Afraid of being remembered bitterly, the old thief hurriedly apologized. "I was only joking. This foul mouth of mine—I'm really sorry."
Having received the apology, the two men didn't pursue the matter. They were teammates who would fight side by side, after all. Besides, Lawrence's mouth was a little crude, but he wasn't a bad man. Much of the news and rumors Zhang Yuan knew had come from the old thief.
There was just one thing: no matter how a conversation began, it would almost always be steered toward boobs by the end. What a lecher!
Sure enough, the lecher opened his mouth. "At our pace, we should be able to reach the Friendly Arm Inn today. It's a wonderful place."
After a pause, he continued, "It has warm, comfortable rooms, fine food and wine, and beautiful maids with sizzling figures. Since it's also a major crossroads, plenty of traveling merchants pass through, attracting all sorts of lovely women looking for opportunities. The last time I was there..."
Lawrence spat as he boasted about his romantic encounters at the Friendly Arm Inn, vividly describing the graceful figures and gentle manners of certain professional women, along with all sorts of filthy jokes so unbearable that even Zhang Yuan couldn't keep listening.
"Make way, make way!" One of the listeners, jostled by someone else, finally snapped out of his immersion and discovered that several gentlemen just like him had crowded around, apparently hoping to criticize Lawrence's decadent ideology.
Speechless, Zhang Yuan simply couldn't be bothered to keep listening. What kind of porn haven't I seen? I'm out.
Before you continue