Turning through the alleyway, crossing the long street, running through the gradually stirring city.

Around them was a scene of war and chaos.

The two figures, one in front and one behind, slowed their pace, finally stopping in front of a courtyard beside a narrow alley.

The wooden door outside was long gone, the houses in the courtyard had collapsed, and there were traces of the owners leaving in haste, perhaps already visited by beggars or thieves.

"No one is here," the wounded teenager stated.

The figure beside him, who had smeared mud on his face like a beggar, helped him inside.

They inspected the courtyard and the collapsed houses, searching for anything usable. Pots and pans had vanished without a trace, and only a few pieces of firewood remained in the houses. The blood-soaked teenager didn't move quickly, but the little beggar was nimble, finding half a clay pot in the muddy corner of the wall.

There was still some water in a broken well in the courtyard, but only a rope remained; the bucket was gone. The little beggar untied her bundle and made a small net out of the cloth to hold the clay pot, then lowered it into the well with the rope to draw some water, washing the pot to prepare for boiling water. The teenager started a fire under the collapsed frame of the house, explaining the steps needed to treat the wounds.

Because they were going into battle, they hadn't brought much with them, and now he only had a few small knives and some wound medicine. The more serious bleeding wounds he had suffered in battle had already been treated with emergency measures, and now he needed to do a relatively thorough job of finishing up. As for internal injuries, needless to say, they would require a period of recovery. The teenage boy and girl, whose relationship had been strange in the Southwest, had no time for reminiscing now. The teenager, with a aloof attitude, explained the steps of healing, while the little beggar busied herself, and although he didn't know if she understood or not, it didn't seem like she was making any mistakes.

The fire rose, boiling the water in the clay pot. The teenager tried to tear open his blood-soaked clothes, and the little beggar, at his instruction, went to wash her hands before coming to help him. The teenager hesitated slightly as he handed her the scalpel.

"W-what's wrong..."

Knowing she had mud on her, the little beggar washed her hands and also washed the black mud off her face. Now, crouching in front of him, her melon-seed face was plain and quiet, with a few drops of water on the hair beside her face. For some reason, she reminded him of small flowers in a spring field, or dandelions floating in the wind.

Ah, it's that little... little bitch-dog's look...

"Nothing..." he shook his head, "...cut open what you can't tear."

"Okay."

She nodded and carefully began to work.

Outside the courtyard, the noise of the city drifted in from afar, but perhaps because of the chaos of war and everyone's eagerness to leave the city, this courtyard with its collapsed houses seemed quiet in the afternoon sunlight. The girl tore open the blood-soaked clothes on his body, and in some places, the blood had already scabbed, inevitably causing more bleeding. She looked at him from time to time, but his gaze was calm and unmoved.

Of course it hurt, but for some reason, looking at this unfamiliar yet familiar face in front of him, he didn't want to talk.

She also picked out broken bamboo splinters from some of the wounds, looking quite miserable, and the girl's hands were stained with a lot of blood.

Treating the wounds again, stopping the bleeding, applying medicine, and for a few wounds the teenager heated the small knife red-hot and cauterized them before applying a layer of medicinal powder. The girl tore open the worn-out clothes she carried with her and bandaged him—she had been disguised as a beggar on her return to Jiangnan for some time, and all she had with her were two ragged beggar's outfits. Now one was torn open, and the other was ready for the teenager to wear.

"Weren't you going to Taihu? How did you get to Jiangning?" He asked casually as the bandaging was almost finished.

"Ah..." The girl was startled, then lowered her head, "W-walking here, I couldn't walk any further."

"Okay." The teenager nodded.

After leaving the Southwest, he had thought of this girl he had met in Chengdu a few times, but only her image flashed through his mind; he couldn't really speculate about what happened to her. After all, in a chaotic world, even martial artists found it difficult to travel. The "little bitch-dog" from Chengdu was just a weak girl, and what were the odds of her surviving outside the Southwest... He didn't want to think about it too much.

After all, with the world so vast, whether she lived or died, they would probably never see each other again in this lifetime.

But deep down, he actually held some vague thoughts, which he would later realize were a young man's yearning for youth and hope, a seemingly vague but profound trace left after the initial stirrings of the heart...

"...Then how did you end up near the battlefield?"

He asked.

The girl lowered her head.

"I... I saw your name in the newspapers these days, I knew you were in the city..."

"Newspapers... hmm..."

The teenager's expression changed, and then, red and white colors surged across his face. After a moment, he "wa" with a sound, spit out blood. The girl's expression immediately became anxious, and she flustered: "You... you you you... what's wrong..."

"Pfft... i-internal... injury... it's... okay... it's okay..."

He spat the blood into the courtyard, breathing heavily and calming himself down. Outside the courtyard, it seemed that crowds of people were passing by in a hurry. He held the girl's hand, looking serious.

"It's okay... don't panic... don't panic..."

After a while, the people outside the courtyard passed by, and the girl helped him put on the ragged clothes. The two of them sat under the collapsed house together. Looking around, the sun in the sky was emitting a little warmth, and withered autumn grass grew among the clods of earth and bluestone blocks in the courtyard. The autumn wind gently caressed them. The two sat under the collapsed house, and the girl began to chatter about everything that had happened to her since she left the Southwest.

From Aunt Gu's arrangements, to following the China Army merchant caravan and learning along the way, to gradually leaving the group and walking alone, encountering robberies, learning to disguise herself as a beggar, and later encountering a "noble person" and being taken in by a woman named Huo Qinghua, working as a "little scholar" reading books and newspapers in the "White Rakshasa's" courtyard, surviving so bumpily and tenaciously until now.

She spoke to herself, telling her little benefactor, whom she had finally reunited with after coming from the Southwest, about all the difficulties and hardships along the way. Perhaps it wasn't so obvious during her time in Chengdu, but it wasn't until after leaving Chengdu that the girl was able to clearly realize that the "little benefactor" in the Southwest, although his personality seemed a little cold, was actually very good to her. He gave himself this book, perhaps because he couldn't stand her being too delicate, but out of the inclusiveness of the China Army, he still rescued her as easily as saving a kitten or puppy.

Even at this moment, she was still somewhat in awe of this "Dragon Little Benefactor", because he still had a straight face. Although his appearance was not frightening, and sometimes even made people feel a little cute, he was still a full-fledged China Army soldier in front of her, even bleeding so much and branding his wounds with a soldering iron without changing his expression. Under his cute appearance, he was really much more powerful than herself.

She came to Jiangning, and the silver she had was basically gone, leaving only a few land deeds she had brought from the Southwest, which she had already realized were impossible to cash out in the current chaotic world. But even so, at this moment, as she described her progress as if facing a peer or an elder, she felt a peace in her heart that she hadn't felt for months.

Speaking of Huo Qinghua, speaking of the small courtyard, speaking of the lives and deaths of those "White Rakshasas", and finally, the small courtyard was gone, and Aunt Huo also died in the internal strife of the Fairness Party. There was no order here, no good people or bad people. The girl hugged her knees, and in the end, she didn't know where to go. She just heard that the China Army had arrived in Jiangning, and she wanted to come and see...

"...But, you... how did you get out? How did you... not go to join those people..." she asked softly at the end.

Ning Ji was silent for a moment: "I have some things to do, I can't go back."

"Oh." The girl nodded.

"...If you don't know where to go, let's be together from now on." After another silence, Ning Ji finally turned his face into a stone, trying to say this as calmly as possible.

"Okay."

"...I mean, if you're not... if you want to follow them... um, never mind."

"...Um."

"...The newspapers are all lies."

"Yeah, I knew it a long time ago."

"Okay."

The teenager pursed his lips and nodded.

After that, change the name...

He made a decision in his heart.

The healing came to an end, and Qu Longjun began to prepare to cook the little bit of dry food she carried with her into a small pot of porridge, busying herself. The autumn wind brushed through the courtyard, and even in the withered autumn grass, there were small yellow flowers swaying. Ning Ji looked at the girl's figure and finally gradually began to recall the scene of Xue Jin's death on the road.

He didn't know what the battle had become, and he didn't know if Uncle Chen Fan and the others could successfully suppress Lin Zongwu. This ruined Jiangning would probably become even more ruined, but it didn't matter. The Su family's courtyard in the past had long become a pile of ruins, and after another round of washing, probably even those traces would not be left. And those people who his parents knew might also have fallen into this chaotic year like Xue Jin.

When he went back in the future and told his father, aunts, and mother about this period, they would probably feel sad too. Perhaps... he could avoid a beating?

And Little Baldy, he never expected that he would be Lin Da Pang's disciple. This was really a twist of fate. His nature was not bad, and he would probably cry for a while, but in the future... he might be taught to be a bad person by Fatty Lin. When they met again, he didn't know what to say. It was certain that he would beat him up, but he wasn't afraid of him. When the time came, he would beat him half to death and spare him once, and that would be the limit of his benevolence and righteousness.

In addition, there was the real matter of Uncle Chen Fan and the others. Uncle Qian Ba, Aunt Qi, Hei Niu, Xiao Hei, Yuwen Feidu, plus Uncle Chen Fan's side... all came, all came... He felt like he couldn't even think about it anymore.

There was no way he could go back. His reputation was going to be completely ruined by them this time. He had originally escaped from the Southwest because of that shameful slander, and now Yu Xiao'er, that bitch, had no news at all, and when Uncle Qian Ba and the others went back, they would bring back his exploits in Jiangning:

"His name is Five-Foot Y Demon."

"Five-foot is the 'five' of one, two, three, four, five..."

"He immediately ravaged another girl when he got outside..."

"Chen Fan saw it with his own eyes..."

"Your son doesn't really have this kind of hobby, does he..."

...

Just thinking about it made him feel like the Southwest was going to become a living hell.

Before he made a name for himself as being the best in the world, he was probably really not going back.

Of course, maybe he should let Uncle Qian Ba and the others bring him some peace...

The sunset changed, and he thought about these things in his heart, looking at the figure busying himself by the clay pot, he didn't feel too lost about the decision not to go back.

It was not bad to read ten thousand books and travel ten thousand miles, roaming the Jianghu. Perhaps when his father led his troops to Jiangnan and saved the world, he would be strong and invincible, and he would be able to help his father and brother to accomplish something truly great.

At this moment, that's what he thought.

Of course, not long after, as night fell, in a courtyard on the north side of the city, Chen Fan, Qian Luoning, Xiao Qi, Hei Niu, and others, as he had expected, were talking about the problem of him gaining such a great reputation along the way.

In another place on the west side of the city, a huge monk was facing a bonfire, quietly listening to his disciple telling him about his journey with the China Army youth, Long Aotian. Not far in front of them, the followers of the Great Brightness Sect were facing Wang Nantuo's mortuary, chanting grand scriptures.

Amid the noisy and vast sounds, the little monk's choked voice was like a wisp of ripple in the torrent of the vast ocean. Lin Zongwu quietly listened to everything...

In this world, every life is like an insignificant drop in this vast ocean. At this moment, the cloudy sea was surging, and the storm was about to fall in the hurricane. Who could notice this tiny drop in the ocean?

Just like Senior Sister Sikong Nan and Junior Brother Wang Nantuo, after a brief dance, they finally went to the forgotten abyss.

In the blink of an eye, a life that was once full of future was lost in the rain of this world.

Thinking of this, he was overwhelmed with sorrow.

"Amitabha."

The huge figure touched the little bald donkey's shoulder and sighed slightly.

"This is the course of life."

He said.

Knowing that you are waiting to see, let's update a section first.