Three burly men in leather armor stood outside. One took the coin pouch and counted its contents, then flew into a rage and slapped Tomira across the face.
She stumbled backward into the house, blood instantly streaming from her nose, but hurriedly scrambled up and apologized meekly:
"I'm sorry, sir, I really have no money left. Those Nilfgaardian bastards have already bled us dry!"
Hearing Tomira curse the Nilfgaardians, the men's expressions softened a little.
They kicked the door open and barged inside. Seeing the bandaged Chen Xu and the girl lying in bed, one sneered, "Business looks good. Have these two paid their treatment fees?"
Chen Xu looked at Tomira. She shook her head discreetly, signaling him not to interfere.
[Detection] activated. Every one of them had the same build: Lv. 5 [Soldier] + Lv. 1 [Royal Guard].
"What are you looking at?"
[Detection] drew the men's attention to him.
He sighed and inconspicuously kicked the sword Geralt had left behind under the bed.
Holding one oren and a few copper coins in his palm, he reached into his sock, pretending to dig out the last of his savings before handing them to Tomira:
"This is all I have left, ma'am."
One of the men snatched the coins with a look of disgust. Seeing his homeland's official currency, he glanced at Chen Xu's ragged clothes, spat, "Pauper!" and called his companions away.
The herbalist breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into a chair, silently plugging her nostrils with herb leaves.
"Deserters?"
Chen Xu asked quietly. Their leather armor belonged to the infantry of the fallen kingdom of Temeria, but the national emblems had been torn off.
Soldiers who had defended their homeland had become bandits who preyed on civilians.
The overwhelming humiliation finally made Tomira break down in tears. With her back to him, she nodded.
This puzzled Chen Xu a little. "Why not move into the village? With the Nilfgaardian garrison there, they wouldn't dare harass you."
"I don't want to treat those invaders!" Tomira wiped away tears that would not stop flowing. "This is my home, and I cleared those herb fields myself. Why should I have to leave?"
...I didn't expect to meet a patriot here.
Chen Xu expressed his understanding, but to spare his ears any more sobbing, he changed the subject:
"Do you know about viruses and bacteria?"
"Hm?" Tomira froze, her attention caught by an unfamiliar field.
"Microorganisms. The culprits behind the pus in my wound..." Chen Xu's explanation brought a tremendous leap in Tomira's understanding of disease. Astonished, she asked:
"Where did you learn all this? Oxenfurt University Medical School?"
Chen Xu shook his head. As a farmer from White Orchard, how could he ever have been to Oxenfurt?
[Deception] had now become his most frequently used skill. "A medical book, though it was indeed written by Professor Shani of Oxenfurt."
"All right." A little embarrassed to realize she was being taught by a young boy, Tomira refused to be outdone. "Do you know what effects bryonia and chickweed have on the human body?"
Here came the good stuff. Chen Xu pricked up his ears and listened intently.
[Tomira, [Herbalist] Lv. 5, taught you alchemy. You learned the skill [Alchemy] Lv. 1.]
As he listened, he asked questions based on the experience and knowledge pouring into his mind.
It took very little time for Tomira to go from answering fluently to stumbling over her words. She felt that Chen Xu's knowledge was actually advancing by leaps and bounds, approaching her own level!
[Tomira, [Herbalist] Lv. 5, taught you alchemy. Your [Alchemy] skill level increased by 1.]
Eventually, Tomira's exchange of knowledge became an outright request for instruction.
She stared at him as though she had seen a ghost, her feelings deeply conflicted:
Was Shani of Oxenfurt really that remarkable? Could a single book surpass more than ten years of study and practice under the high priestess of the Temple of Melitele?
It was nearly noon when Geralt returned with the Swallow potion. Tomira hurriedly fed it to Lena, who lay in the sickbed.
"Aah-"
The witcher's potion immediately subjected the girl to agonizing torment, and her screams were harrowing.
Her chest heaved rapidly, and her body convulsed violently. Chen Xu hurriedly stuffed a wad of rags into her mouth to keep her from biting through her tongue.
The girl finally passed out from the agony, but her breathing seemed to be gradually steadying.
"It's working?"
Although he knew the outcome, Chen Xu still found it astonishing.
He wondered whether he would be able to use potions like a witcher once his constitution improved.
"The wounds are starting to heal." Tomira examined Lena's hematomas and wounds, breathing a slight sigh of relief. Then she lifted the girl's eyelids to inspect her pupils and said uncertainly:
"But her consciousness is scattered... Her mind can hardly withstand such painful stimulation. We can only wait until she wakes up.
"What about you? How do you feel?"
Chen Xu stood and moved around a little, feeling some strength return to his body. "Better. Thank you for the ointment."
Geralt returned the two swords. Chen Xu glanced at the faint traces of blood on their edges:
"Were they any good?"
"Average." The White Wolf remained expressionless. He was a man who had seen the world. "This silver sword is a replica of Moon Blade, a sword I once carried. If you ever come to Kaer Morhen, I can show you what a truly peerless sword looks like."
So this guy couldn't bear to use those legendary silver swords. Chen Xu was a little amused.
Other witchers lived with their lives on the line, eager to spend every last coin on the finest equipment in the world.
Only the White Wolf could afford to be so capricious.
"Teach me swordsmanship, and I'll help you forge a weapon stronger than this one." Chen Xu finally revealed his true aim:
"Otherwise, I'll go to Vesemir, and then you'll have to call me your junior apprentice brother."
Without a word, the White Wolf slung his two swords onto his back, mounted Roach, and beckoned. "We'll talk once your injuries have healed, boy."
"Please wait." Just then, the herbalist actually took a coin pouch from a hidden pocket in her clothes and handed it to Geralt:
"Thank you for your help."
By the time the White Wolf and Chen Xu returned to White Orchard village, a large number of Nilfgaardian soldiers had gathered outside the tavern.
The mature beauty in black at their head immediately approached when she saw Geralt:
"It's good to see you, Geralt."
The newcomer was none other than the sorceress the White Wolf had longed for day and night-Yennefer of Vengerberg.
Her alluring lips held a smile she could not conceal at seeing her beloved, and the tenderness brimming in her violet eyes could almost have drowned the White Wolf.
Geralt was so excited that he jumped straight off his horse. Unfortunately, he was utterly clueless with women and simply stood there "catching up."
The disappointment that surfaced in the black-clad beauty's eyes was plain to see.
A hug at that moment might have spared the White Wolf a great deal of suffering later.
"Come with me. The emperor wants to see you." Sulking, Yennefer returned to wait with the Nilfgaardian troops.
"When did you become Emhyr's subordinate?" Seeing his beloved taking orders from another man, Geralt felt a little jealous and questioned her like an aggrieved lover;
Even if that man was the most powerful person on the entire continent.
"He offered me something I couldn't refuse." Knowing that the White Wolf disliked formalities and was reluctant to deal with royalty, Yennefer added:
"It's about Ciri. I don't think you can refuse either."
Ciri was Geralt's weakness. He said a brief farewell to Vesemir;
For these long-lived beings, parting was comparatively easy.
"See you, boy." He turned to Chen Xu, took a perfectly round stone from the saddlebag on Roach's back, and handed it over:
"I might return here once everything is over. Perhaps I can teach you a thing or two the next time we meet."
The White Wolf galloped away with the Nilfgaardian troops, leaving the old witcher and Chen Xu staring at each other.
"I suppose I'll go back to Kaer Morhen." Vesemir shook his head and sighed, looking like an empty nester. "What about you, boy?"
He had already begun to assume, without thinking, that Chen Xu would not waste his whole life here.
"Me?" Chen Xu rubbed the runestone Geralt had given him.
His original plan had been to leave with Geralt, but the White Wolf was going to meet the Nilfgaardian emperor, who was suspected of having been possessed by a Chosen One. Following him would be no different from walking into a trap.
He had to hurry to the next major map, Velen-not only to meet up with Geralt, but also because someone there knew the whereabouts of Ciri, the target of his main quest.
Thanks to the story design of The Witcher 3, there was a shortcut he could take.
Following the normal progression to find Ciri would probably take nearly a month or even longer, and there was no telling how many Chosen Ones would stand in his way:
"I'll probably go to Velen. I hear there's a master blacksmith there. It would be worth exchanging knowledge and learning a little."
"All right."
Vesemir had been thinking that if the boy asked him, he would not mind taking him back to Kaer Morhen to train him in swordsmanship. But since Chen Xu had his own direction, he would leave it to fate.
Without the slightest hesitation, the old witcher mounted his horse and galloped away.
[[King of Beggars] Chosen One Zhang Yuanzhu has been killed by an unknown Chosen One!]
A screen of light abruptly appeared, making Chen Xu's heart tighten.
From the start, he had considered the identities of the city's kings the most dangerous, because the other Chosen Ones' identities were difficult to establish, except for the four underworld kingpins of the free city of Novigrad.
They were Novigrad's true rulers, controlling gangs that extended throughout the city.
Though powerful, they were effectively the first side to expose themselves under the dark forest theory.
Chen Xu lacked the strength to challenge them, but that did not mean the other Chosen Ones did.
The clashes between Chosen Ones had already reached a fever pitch, while he was still sickly. He could not help feeling anxious.
He had to hurry and make progress.