Besides, would detonating it like this not betray the hundreds upon thousands of boatmen? How would Fengshui Dock maintain its footing in the Jianghu afterward? Even if the ambush succeeded, it would be driving a knife into its own chest.
Pei Ye turned to look at Chen Renzhong. The man remained motionless with his head bowed, the sinking ship and shouting boatmen reflected on the water.
Pei Ye withdrew his gaze, regulated his true qi for a few breaths, and leaped off to rescue people.
He ran straight into Xie Chuantang. She was setting a wounded person onto a huge broken plank. Her hair was somewhat disheveled, her face stained with fiery ash, and her saber had clearly been drawn.
"Are you all right?" The woman looked him over with some concern.
"Nothing serious. How did things go on your side?"
"Chen Yingfeng escaped," Xie Chuantang said. "I couldn't stop him. I only managed to save a lot of account books."
"That's enough. Chen Renzhong is still here," Pei Ye said. "But he's in a strange state. Come take a look."
Xie Chuantang's eyes suddenly lit up, almost bursting into flame. Without even stopping to answer, she strode over.
Chen Renzhong was leaning against the deck, one foot already submerged beneath the rising water, yet he still kept his eyes shut, unmoved. Strange was no longer enough to describe his condition. In the brief time Pei Ye had been away, his body had deteriorated rapidly. Scales covered more and more of his skin, but rather than transforming into some other form of life, he was approaching collapse.
Blood ran from his mouth and the gaps between his scales. What the scales brought was splitting muscle.
Hearing the two approach, Chen Renzhong slowly raised his head, his eyes full of pain.