Chapter 140: You Wouldn’t Want a Peak Grandmaster Hunting You Down Either, Would You?

"Hahahaha! Bobo, you’re joking. Come here, let me heal your wounds!" Ji Huo said with an awkward laugh.

To his surprise, the Sword Saint waved him off, refusing, "No need. I actually think this feels quite good."

Ji Huo paused, squinting his eyes. "Bobo, think carefully now. Your constitution isn't like my old man's. If he suffers wounds this severe, he’s out of commission for a few months at most, but for you, it’ll be at least half a year."

"Bullshit! It’ll only take me a few months too!" the Sword Saint grumbled.

Seeing him like this, and remembering how his father had also refused his healing, Ji Huo suddenly understood. These wounds were the result of a backlash from the power beyond the Grandmaster realm that they had unleashed in their combined strike—it was effectively like being beaten up by someone stronger than a Grandmaster. By letting the wounds linger and contemplating them, they could better grasp that superior power, which would be of great benefit to their future cultivation.

"Fair enough," Ji Huo said nonchalantly. "Why don't you stay in the capital for a few days? Hundreds of thousands have died, so there are plenty of empty houses."

The Sword Saint stood up and brushed off his filthy clothes, though they were scorched black, so the effort was futile. Watching him brush them so meticulously, Ji Huo figured Bobo was probably calculating that the clothes could still be worn after a wash—after all, they cost thirty taels of silver, and he’d gotten them for free! It wasn't just Ji Huo who noticed; Xia Ningchang likely had too, though she was too polite to ask.

"No need. I’ve had an epiphany. I’ll just stroll through the pugilistic world slowly; there’s no rush to return." The Sword Saint, likely realizing the clothes were still salvageable, beamed with joy. He patted Ji Huo on the shoulder. "Kid, if there’s a chance to beat up your old man again next time, remember to call me."

He grumbled again, "This time was a mistake! After all these years, your old man still looks as dim-witted as ever, but he’s actually full of schemes! He’d secretly healed his wounds long ago and kept pretending to be severely injured! He was fishing! How despicable!"

Ji Huo awkwardly rubbed his nose, not daring to say a word.

"Still, beating him into a severe injury this time felt pretty good. Hahahaha!" the Sword Saint laughed.

*Why do I get the feeling that after being struck by lightning, Bobo’s mind hasn't been quite right?* Ji Huo muttered to himself.

After laughing for a while, the Sword Saint added, "I leave my sister to you. You must make it happen!" As he spoke, he kept winking and gesturing suggestively.

On this topic, Ji Huo was suddenly wide awake. He hurriedly asked, "Bobo, have Auntie Bai and my old man always been like this?"

"They have. That’s how they were back then, and even after all these years, they remain the same. There’s not a hint of estrangement, which means the affection is still there. I think there’s a real chance!" the Sword Saint said firmly.

*I think there’s absolutely no chance at all...* Ji Huo laughed awkwardly. "I’ll do my best."

The Sword Saint said slowly, "Kid, you wouldn't want to be hunted down by a peak Grandmaster, would you?"

Ji Huo immediately straightened his back. "Consider it done!"

Only then did the Sword Saint nod with satisfaction. He then looked at Xia Ningchang, who was standing quietly to the side. As his gaze fell upon her, her body stiffened instantly. The Sword Saint gave her a friendly smile. However, with his messy, exploded hair, soot-covered face, a flash of bright white teeth, and filthy, scorched clothes, he looked every bit like the silhouette of the murderer from that detective anime.

Xia Ningchang silently edged closer to Ji Huo.

The Sword Saint: "..."

He pouted, turned around, and limped away into the distance, waving his hand casually. "I'm off."

The two exchanged a look, and Ji Huo shrugged. Xia Ningchang felt a weight lift from her heart; it seemed the Sword Saint had let go of the matter of her stealing the Demonic Dragon Spear. Ji Huo smiled, knowing exactly what she was worried about, though he didn't point it out. In fact, when he had healed her and noticed the Sword Saint’s sword qi actively receding, he knew the Sword Saint had tacitly approved of the incident. That was the very reason he had brought her along. However, the Sword Saint’s 'Heaven's Will Sword Art' could manifest into thousands of forms, with every strand of intent acting as a clone—such a technique was truly beyond human limits.

For the next few days, Ji Huo and Xia Ningchang stayed at the original Grand Duke’s Mansion, residing in Ji Huo's old courtyard. There were empty rooms, so Xia Ningchang took the guest room. Many of the mansion’s servants had perished, and in such a critical time, it was impossible to find replacements. Thus, Ji Huo had to cook for himself. The two fended for themselves, and life was actually quite pleasant. Eventually, because it was too far to keep going to the main kitchen, they set up a stove in their own courtyard. Other than buying groceries, they were too lazy to even step outside. During these days, Ji Huo cooked diligently, and Xia Ningchang was very happy, devouring three big bowls of rice at every meal.

The outside world was chaotic, but Ji Huo was too lazy to get involved, leaving everything to his older brother. In a sense, his brother was an emperor without a court; his manpower in the capital had been decimated, and he had to summon reinforcements from all over. Fortunately, with the assistance of the Six Ministries, the Great理 Temple, the Flying Bear Army, and the Qiankun Sect in maintaining order, they managed to scrape by. They usually worked until late at night. Once, while strolling through the mansion, Ji Huo bumped into his brother and Mr. Wen rushing out. Both had dark circles under their eyes; they probably hadn't slept well in days. If his brother wasn't already a Grandmaster, Ji Huo would have worried he’d die of exhaustion shortly after taking the throne.

Ji Huo, strolling back to the courtyard with a pigeon in hand, stood in stark contrast to his brother and Mr. Wen, whose eyes were bloodshot and who exuded the miserable aura of overworked corporate slaves. When they crossed paths, Ji Huo was refreshed and relaxed, while his brother’s side was gloomier than a storm cloud. Siblings, yet living completely different lives.

"That’s why I say, emperors die young from overwork," Ji Huo muttered to himself after they had parted ways.

After his brother and Mr. Wen had walked for a while, Mr. Wen grew increasingly bothered, finally blurting out in surprise, "This isn't right! Your Majesty, why are we working ourselves to death while the Second Young Master lives so leisurely?"

Ji Jihong laughed. "Second Brother never liked the court or such troublesome matters. Besides, didn't he provide the Qiankun Sect to help us?"

Mr. Wen scratched his head. "But even Miss Hongtang has taken the initiative to handle the security of the capital. Although she is extremely powerful, she is young and surely dislikes such violent work. Yet she spends every day dragging troublemaking martial artists to the dungeons; the psychological pressure must be immense. But the Second Young Master..."

Ji Jihong thought of how cute little Hongtang was, patrolling everywhere, and felt a pang of heartache. He had wanted to have others take over that task several times, but each time she refused with, "I want to help Big Brother," which moved everyone so much they were practically ready to dote on the little girl to death.

Ji Jihong glanced at Mr. Wen and smiled. "Then why don't you find something for him to do? If you can get him to listen, I won't have any objections."

Mr. Wen opened his mouth but said nothing. Right, the commander of the Flying Bear Army was still Ji Huo; only he could command that force. If he angered Ji Huo and he withdrew the army, who would handle the city’s affairs then?