Escaping the Mist Ninja starts with backstabbing your teacher.

Chapter 173 Healing!

Ye Cang ladled a bowl of soup for her and placed it in front of her: "Drink the soup first to warm your stomach."

Wuming picked up the bowl, lowered her head, and took a sip. The soup was so hot that it made her eyes sting.

But she didn't put down the bowl. She drank it all, one sip after another, and then stared blankly at the few remaining crab roe pieces at the bottom of the empty bowl.

"Is it good?" Yecang asked.

Wuming didn't answer. She put down her bowl, picked up another piece of tofu, blew on it, and put it in her mouth.

The tofu was tender and smooth, melting in her mouth, with the umami flavors of miso and seafood. She chewed a few times, swallowed, and then picked up another piece.

Then came the shrimp, the grilled fish, and the rice. She ate slowly but attentively, chewing each bite for a long time.

It's like confirming the taste of the food, or like confirming that you can still taste it.

Izumi sat opposite her, holding a cup of sake, watching her eat without saying a word.

After Wuming finished eating the rice in his bowl, he put down his wine glass and slowly said, "If you don't mind, I'll treat your body tonight."

"If you absorb my chakra, you should be able to recover quickly!"

Wuming put down his chopsticks, raised his head, and looked in the direction of Quanchuan with his black eyes.

"Sure, but—"

"You said I'd do things for you, but you haven't said what you want me to do."

"No rush." ​​Izumi leaned back in his chair, his tone nonchalant. "Get well first. What can someone who's out of breath just walking do for me?"

Wuming pursed her lips, as if she wanted to refute, but couldn't find the words to do so. Her body was indeed too weak, so weak that she herself knew it.

"Besides," Izumikawa picked up his glass and took a sip, "even if I told you, you might not remember it in your current state."

Wuming did not answer. She remained silent for a moment, then suddenly reached for the sake bottle on the table, poured herself a cup, picked it up, and downed it in one gulp.

The alcohol burned her throat, causing her to cough violently, bending over with choking and tears streaming down her face.

Ye Cang quickly patted her back, laughing as he did so: "That's wine, not milk tea. How can you drink it like that?"

Wuming coughed for a while before he recovered. He raised his head, his eyes were red, and his lips were red from the burning alcohol.

"This stuff—it tastes awful," she said in a hoarse voice.

"You drink it even though it tastes awful."

"That person is drinking it." Wuming pointed at Quanchuan. "I thought it tasted good."

Izumi's lips twitched, but she didn't reply. Yekura laughed out loud, this time without covering her mouth.

Laughter echoed on the outer corridor in the twilight, startling an unidentified night bird in the bamboo grove.

Wuming looked at Ye Cangxiao, then at Quanchuan's somewhat dark face, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved slightly.

The arc was small and fleeting, but it was indeed a smile.

The night in the Land of Hot Water is very quiet. The bamboo leaves rustle, the stream flows gently, and occasionally a few insects chirp in the distance.

The lantern light cast a warm orange glow on the three of them, giving the empty plates and the pot of miso soup that was still warm a soft hue.

Wrapped in a thin blanket, Wuming leaned against a pillar on the outer corridor, gazing at the starry sky above, fragmented by bamboo leaves.

Her fingers gently caressed the edge of the blanket, feeling the soft and warm touch of the fabric.

This is unlike the world she once lived in, where there is no endless war, no more orders from her people.

She didn't know what the world would give her, but she knew at least that the soup tonight was warm.

The night breeze blew from the valley, carrying the fragrance of bamboo leaves and the faint sulfurous smell unique to the hot springs.

The light from the lanterns flickered slightly, casting the shadows of the three people onto the wooden corridor, lengthening and then shortening.

Wuming leaned against the pillar, his eyes half-closed, and a hint of weariness gradually appeared on his pale face.

It wasn't the kind of silence that comes from being sealed and suppressed, like a state of suspended animation; rather, it was the energy that welled up from within after a good meal.

Real sleepiness.

"Come here." Izumi put down his wine glass and beckoned to her. "Take care of your health first, so you can sleep more comfortably."

Wuming opened his eyes, glanced at him, and didn't move.

After a few breaths, she stood up, the thin blanket slipping off her shoulders, but she didn't pick it up. Barefoot, she walked to Izumi Kawa and sat down beside him.

"Give me your hand," Izumi said.

Wuming extended his right hand, palm up, and placed it on Quanchuan's knee.

Her fingers were still thin and pale, with distinct knuckles, but the tips were no longer the grayish-white color they used to be; they had a hint of warmth.

Izumi placed his right hand on the back of her hand and closed his eyes. Chakra seeped from his palm into her skin, spreading along her meridians throughout her body.

Wuming's body stiffened slightly, an instinctive reaction to being invaded; his Sharingan almost activated.

But she gritted her teeth and did not resist, letting that warm, unfamiliar power flow through her meridians.

Her meridians were very dry. Although the sealing technique of hundreds of years had saved her life, it was like a pump, slowly draining her chakra, leaving only the minimum to maintain a state of suspended animation.

In many places, the meridians have shriveled and dried up, like a dried-up riverbed, and in some places, even tiny cracks have appeared.

Izumi's chakra was gentle, slowly seeping into those parched meridians, like spring rain falling on cracked fields, gradually nourishing those withered tube walls.

"It's a bit chilly," Wuming said.

"It was a little cool when we first went in, but it got warm in a little while," Izumikawa replied with his eyes closed.

Wuming didn't speak again. She lowered her eyes and looked at the hand that Quanchuan had placed on the back of her hand.

That hand was much bigger than hers, with long, slender fingers, distinct knuckles, and a warm palm.

Her chakra seeped out from between the fingers of that hand, spreading upwards along her meridians.

It flows over the wrist, over the forearm, over the elbow, and all the way upwards.

The feeling was strange; it wasn't pain or itching, but rather an indescribable, peculiar sensation of being opened up from within the body.

Her meridians had been closed for hundreds of years, like an old house forgotten in a corner of a warehouse, with its doors and windows tightly shut and covered in a thick layer of dust.

At that moment, someone was pushing open the doors one by one, letting the light in.

She didn't like the feeling of having her door opened, but she had to admit that the areas where the light shone through were indeed less cold.

"Your meridians are severely blocked." Izumi raised an eyebrow and revealed a mischievous smile. "There are several blockages that have hardened over time."

"Chakra alone won't be enough to clear it. Tomorrow, let Yekura use acupuncture to help you clear the blockage."

"Acupuncture?"

"It's just acupuncture." Yecang glanced at Izumi and chimed in, "Very thin needles, inserted into acupoints, it won't hurt."

Wuming tilted his head slightly, glanced at Ye Cang, and then turned back.

"----casual."

Quanchuan withdrew his hand, opened his eyes, and realized that the body could not tolerate strong tonics. If he wanted the nameless foundation to be properly nourished, it could not be a false tonic.

"That's all for tonight," Izumi said. "We'll continue tomorrow. You should go to sleep now; the room is inside, and the bedding is already made up."

Wuming responded with a soft "Mm," without moving.

She sat on the veranda, barefoot on the wooden planks, her hands on her knees, gazing at the starry sky above.

"Aren't you going to sleep yet?" Ye Cang asked.

"Let's look at them a little longer," said Wuming. "It's been a long time since I've seen the stars."

Yekura didn't urge her. She got up to clear the dishes on the low table, stacked the pots and pans, and carried them back to the kitchen on a tray. She stopped as she passed Izumi.

"Her meridians—"

"It's bad," Izumi said. "Worse than I thought, but it can recover, it just will take time."

Ye Cang nodded and walked away with the tray.

Only Izumi and Mumei remained on the outer corridor.

Izumi leaned back in his chair and poured himself another glass of sake. He didn't drink it, but just held it in his hand, watching the sake in the glass reflect the dim light of the lantern.

"Still can't remember your own name?" he suddenly asked.

Wuming remained silent for a long time, so long that Quanchuan thought she wouldn't answer.

"————It's very blurry." Her voice was low, as if it came from a very far place, with a sense of uncertainty. "When I was very young, my mother called me."

"What's your name?"

"I don't remember, I only remember—the last character was 'zi'." My mother said that was a character often used when naming girls.

"Would you like a new name?"

Wuming turned her head, her black eyes looking at Quanchuan. Her face was expressionless, with only the moonlight outlining her features faintly.

"You want to get it?"

"If you'd like, I can get one for you."

Wuming withdrew her gaze and looked back at the starry sky. She tapped her fingers lightly on her knee twice, as if deep in thought.

"No rush," she finally said. "Tell me first what kind of person you are, and then I'll decide whether or not I want you to marry me."

"

Izumi was taken aback. This guy was interesting, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Okay," he said. "My name is Taketori Izumi, and I come from Kirigakure in the Land of Water, from the Taketori clan."

"I later defected and now I have a base in the Snow Country, where I do research and occasionally make some transactions. I'm not a good person, but I'm not too bad either."

"Then why are you doing all this?" The nameless voice was still soft, but the question was earnest. "To break the seal, find me, bring me here, feed me, help me recover—what do you want?"

Izumikawa picked up his sake cup and drank the sake in one gulp.

"Immortality," he said. "I want to see what this world will eventually become."

Wuming looked at him, and something seemed to flicker in his black eyes.

"And you?" Izumikawa put down his glass. "What do you want?"

Wuming remained silent for a long time. The night wind blew through the bamboo forest, and the bamboo leaves rustled, as if answering for her.

"I don't know," she finally said. "I just woke up and haven't thought about it yet."

Izumi nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

Wuming stood up, her bare feet shuffling across the wooden floor, and walked into the house. She paused at the doorway, but didn't turn back.

"The stars tonight are different from those before."

"What's different?"

"It's brighter than before," the nameless man said. "Or maybe it's because my eyes are brighter than before."

She pushed open the door and went inside. The door closed behind her, and the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.

Izumi sat alone on the veranda, the bamboo shadows swaying on him, the lantern light casting his shadow on the wooden wall behind him.

For Wuming, a century had passed quietly, and all the things he once knew were gone.

But—perhaps this is a good thing for her, since there is no one she can miss.