Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiao froze, seemingly frightened by the change in Du Yu.
The Red Turban Army soldiers and townspeople beside them were stunned too, unsure what was happening.
Du Yu pulled A Can forward from behind him and pointed at his wounds. "See these? Why was my brother wounded? Would he have been hurt if he hadn't been protecting you two idiots?!"
Only then did the two notice the horrifying wounds on A Can's body, and their mouths fell open.
"Brother A Can... you're hurt this badly?"
"It's all right, Seventh Master. I can't feel pain..."
"All right, my ass!" Du Yu roared. "Brother A Can was already wounded. You can act however you please here, but he's staking his life on this! How the fuck can you face him?!"
Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiao had been beggars since childhood, and the old beggar in the temple had died early. Naturally, no one had ever reprimanded them so sternly before. For a moment, neither knew how to answer.
"We..."
"And what about me?" Du Yu said. "I'd already reached the City God Temple. When I saw the Red Turban Army running this way, I was worried something had happened to you, so I rushed straight back without stopping. Even with hundreds of men surrounding you, I was still worried you might be hurt! I had to come in and check."
Du Yu pointed at the Red Turban Army soldiers beside him. They were so close that his finger nearly poked one in the face.
"But what do I find?" Du Yu shook his head helplessly. "Well, look at you, sitting pretty while my brother nearly loses his life!"
Du Yu grabbed A Can's forearm and told the two, "Forget it. As the saying goes, rotten mud won't stick