Fresh wood was added to the brazier, and bright yellow flames soon sprang up, illuminating the courtyard with its many bottles and jars.
The fragrance of medicine filled the courtyard. Medicinal herbs hung drying beneath the eaves on three sides, along with smoked meat, cured sausages, and other foodstuffs.
After spending half the day flying wingman overhead, Niao Niao had landed on a windowsill and was eyeing the Big Salted Fish before her. She looked as though she wanted to help taste-test how the drying was coming along, but since she was at someone else's home, she could hardly bring herself to take a bite.
Several benches stood around the brazier in the courtyard, with a few people seated on them.
Ye Jingtang had fetched a change of clothes from his horse when he came in, but he was still wearing only trousers, with the legs rolled up. His arms and legs were covered in bruises. Since the occasion did not permit otherwise, he wore a stern expression, pretending nothing was wrong and that he felt no pain at all.
Opposite him, the fair-skinned, refined-looking Jiang Zhawu had several bloody cuts on his chest and calves, as well as bruises on his arms and fists. The old shaman's apprentice was tending his wounds.
As the current Fist Champion, he had to pretend he felt nothing in front of outsiders even if the pain killed him. Jiang Zhawu therefore kept his expression restrained, showing neither pleasure nor anger.
Fan Qinghe sat before Ye Jingtang, applying medicine to the bruises on his arms and legs. Seeing both Martial Chiefs acting as though nothing had happened left her with feelings difficult to put into words.
After all, however accomplished a martial artist was, training increased his tolerance for pain; it did not numb