Joining Tiandao Company: Starting by mending a zombie world

"They didn't ask me anything." Duanmu Ying raised her head, looking in the direction Zhang Zhiwei had disappeared. "They didn't ask me how I met Brother Huaiyi, they didn't ask about the Thirty-Six Thieves, they didn't ask why the Lü family wanted to arrest me, and they didn't even ask where I was going—"

"That's a true master." Chu Sheng helped her down the mountain. "If he asks you everything, then he owes you. If he doesn't ask you anything, then you owe him. The feeling of owing someone is more unbearable than being owed."

Duanmu Ying remained silent for a while before whispering, "How do you know everything?"

"Because I also owe others." Chu Sheng smiled and didn't say anything more.

Upon entering Qing Shi Town, Chu Sheng first found a clinic. The doctor, an elderly man with white hair and beard, frowned upon seeing Duanmu Ying's right arm:

"Why did it take you so long to come? Your bones are all misaligned!" The old doctor massaged her shoulder for a moment, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

"No, someone treated you before—this hemostasis technique, this fixed angle, it takes more than ten years of practice to master."

Duanmu Ying didn't explain, she just said, "You can help me set my bones."

The old doctor glanced at her, then at Chu Sheng who was guarding the door, and asked no more questions. He took a few splints and a bundle of clean white cloth and quickly set her bones.

Duanmu Ying gritted her teeth, fine beads of sweat appearing on her forehead, but she didn't utter a sound.

After leaving the clinic, Chu Sheng found an inn.

The inn is small, but it is quiet. In the backyard there is an old well and a pomegranate tree, and the pomegranate flowers are in full bloom, hanging red all over the tree.

Chu Sheng settled Duanmu Ying in the room on the second floor overlooking the courtyard. Opening the window, one could see pomegranate trees and distant mountain ridges.

I moved into the room next door and left the door open so I could hear what was going on at any time.

By the time I finished all that, it was almost noon.

Chu Sheng sat on the edge of his bed in his room, closed his eyes, and examined his internal injuries.

Duanmu Ying's hands were indeed extraordinary. The old wound on her chest had healed by 90%, and the meridians in her left arm that had been eroded by Yin energy had recovered by 70-80%.

The remaining two or three parts can be cured by him adjusting his breathing for two hours.

My condition is better than expected.

He opened his eyes, took out the dragon-patterned jade pendant from his pocket, and placed it in his palm. The jade pendant felt warm to the touch, and the dragon pattern shimmered faintly with a greenish light in the afternoon sun.

Duanmu Ying's problem was more urgent than he had anticipated. Lü Ci would not let it go easily, and neither would the Ghost Cry Sect.

Given the Lü family's influence in the world of supernatural beings, finding Qing Shi Town is only a matter of time.

At that time, with his current cultivation level, which is barely enough to protect himself, plus Duanmu Ying who has lost her right arm, he won't last long until the next Zhang Zhiwei passes by.

Either tough it out.

Either leave.

Walk—where to?

When this thought came to mind, it wasn't Suzhou, Shaozhou, or any other place name in the world that popped into his head.

Instead, they are two completely different answers.

Take Duanmu Ying away from this world and to the legendary world!

This idea seems absurd at first glance, but upon closer examination, it is not without feasibility, after all, a company can do anything.

There will definitely be a way to get her away.

Chu Sheng and Duanmu Ying only rested in Qing Shi Town for two days.

On the third day, before dawn, just as the old man selling soy milk at the town entrance set up his stall, two black Ford sedans bearing the Lü family flag silently stopped on the main road outside the town.

Chu Sheng was keeping watch by the window on the second floor of the inn when he saw the car headlights sweep across the archway at the entrance of the town. He immediately woke up Duanmu Ying.

The two climbed out of the back window of the inn and followed the abandoned herb-gathering path behind Qing Shi Town into the depths of the mountains.

This drilling took more than half a month.

The hiding place they found was an abandoned stone house belonging to a herb gatherer. The stone house was embedded in a recess in a cliff halfway up the mountain. Most of the roof had collapsed, but the four stone walls were sturdy enough to keep out the wind and rain.

Most importantly, there is a mountain spring behind the house, clear and sweet, flowing down along the cracks in the rocks, making a tinkling sound all the time.

Several old walnut trees grow in front of the house, their branches and leaves so dense that they completely cover the stone house. From the foot of the mountain, all you can see is a dark green canopy.

Duanmu Ying named this place "Tingquanju" (Listening to the Spring Residence).

Chu Sheng spent two days rebuilding the roof with pine branches and bark, and then cut some vines to weave a crooked fence gate.

Duanmu Ying was directing from the side, pointing with her left hand and saying that this was crooked and that was slanted. Chu Sheng turned around and grinned at her, saying that if she kept nagging, he wouldn't make chicken soup for her tonight.

The chicken soup was something Chu Sheng had smuggled from the foot of the mountain. To be precise, he had taken it from a hunter's chicken coop at the foot of the mountain.

He left five silver dollars by the chicken coop, which was more than enough to buy ten chickens, so it wasn't stealing, but rather forced purchase.

Duanmu Ying sipped the chicken soup and mumbled that it was the most delicious chicken he had ever eaten in his life.

Chu Sheng looked at the oil stains on the corners of her mouth and couldn't help but reach out to wipe them off for her.

Duanmu Ying paused for a moment, then lowered her head, her ears turning red, and buried her face in the bowl to continue drinking the soup.

Life went on in this leisurely way.

For the first few days, Duanmu Ying's right arm was still in a sling across her chest, making it inconvenient for her to do anything.

Chu Sheng wouldn't let her do anything; he took care of everything: laundry, cooking, fetching water, chopping wood.

Feeling bad, Duanmu Ying insisted on helping with her left hand, but ended up breaking three dishes while washing them and almost cutting her own foot while chopping firewood.

Chu Sheng snatched the wood-chopping knife from her hand and said sternly, "You should rest and recover from your injuries. We'll talk about it after you're healed."

Duanmu Ying sat on the stone stool at the entrance of the stone house, pouting, watching him chop wood. Chu Sheng swung the axe with a beautiful posture, the muscles of his shoulders and back undulating under his thin inner clothes. With each swing, the pine wood split in two.

He didn't wear a shirt when he chopped wood. His Taoist robe had long been torn by the branches, and he sewed it up crookedly himself. He simply wore it only when it was cool in the morning or evening.

"If you're hot, then don't wear it," Duanmu Ying said, resting her chin on her hand.

Chu Sheng glanced back at her, deliberately lifting the hem of his inner garment to wipe his sweat, revealing the firm muscle lines of his waist and abdomen.

Duanmu Ying snorted and turned her face away, but her eyes were still glued to him out of the corner of her eye.

A few days later, Duanmu Ying began to figure out how to cook with her left hand.

She had never cooked in her life. The eldest daughter of Jishetang, who had been pampered since childhood, didn't even know which way the kitchen door faced.

The first time I cooked porridge, I poured rice and water into the pot and then sat in front of the stove waiting. After waiting for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, I lifted the lid and saw that the rice was still rice and the water was still water, and the firewood in the stove had long since gone out.

Chu Sheng laughed so hard he couldn't stand up straight. He squatted down and taught her how to start a fire: "First, stuff in a handful of dry pine needles, then add thin firewood, and put the coarse firewood on top."

"Flames leap upwards, but you've piled up coarse firewood on top of pine needles; no wonder it won't light."

Duanmu Ying studied very diligently, clumsily striking the fire with a flint and steel in her left hand. The pine needles would catch fire only to be blown out by the wind; she would strike the fire again, only to have it extinguished once more.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her bitten lower lip turned slightly white, but she refused to give up.

After seven attempts, a cluster of orange-red flames finally leaped up from the pile of pine needles, shining brightly in her almond-shaped eyes.

"It's on fire!" She was so excited that she almost dropped the flint and steel in her hand. She turned to look at Chu Sheng, her face filled with pure joy, a stark contrast to the cold and aloof demeanor she displayed when she was at the operating table, manipulating the red mist with her hands.

Cola Novels: This is where dreams begin, and where dreams come true.