Chapter 12
The Healer
Am I hurt? Is that what he said? Jon's mind churned with disbelief. To him, the question seemed absurdly redundant. Pain throbbed through his body, a sharp ache pulsing at his clavicle, and the metallic tang of blood lingered in his mouth. The world around him was a blur, his senses struggling to piece together the chaos of recent events.
As Jon’s eyes focused, the figure standing over them became clearer—a man of short stature, his presence unimposing. Blond, wavy hair framed his face, partially obscured by a cloth tied around his head. His large eyes, accentuated by a hint of facial hair, scanned the surroundings, betraying a mix of curiosity and caution. His attire was simple, reminiscent of what Jon would imagine a peasant in a xianxia novel wearing, devoid of any weapon, which slightly eased Jon's immediate tension.
Despite the situation, Jon couldn’t help but wonder: Had they escaped the madness? Where was this, and who was this man?
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft whine. The dog, his unexpected ally, was lying beside him, its left leg awkwardly angled, clearly broken. Yet, its spirit remained unbroken, eyes fixed on the stranger, a low growl vibrating in its throat, ready to protect Jon at all costs.
A wave of affection surged through Jon’s battered frame. "Ha, you’re a good boy, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. Gently, he laid a hand on the dog's head, soothing its fears. The dog responded with a whimper, nuzzling his bruised face, its tongue flicking over his skin, tasting the salt of his wounds.
"Okay, okay, buddy, it's okay. We made it out alive, at least for now..." Jon reassured, his hand stroking the dog's fur in a rhythmic cadence, offering comfort to both the animal and himself.
His attention then shifted back to the man approaching them, taking in his features and demeanor. The man really had an air of rugged practicality about him. His eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned Jon and the dog with curiosity.
As the man drew nearer, Jon tensed, unsure of the intentions behind those probing eyes. Yet, there was no overt threat in his approach, just a cautious curiosity that seemed to mirror Jon's own wariness.
"Who are you?" Jon managed to grunt out, his voice gaining strength from the adrenaline that still coursed through his veins. The man halted, a respectful distance away, as if understanding the need for space.
"I am a healer," the man replied, his voice calm and measured, "I was looking for a few herbs to make my medicines and stumbled upon you. It appears you are in need of assistance."
Jon eyed him skeptically, his mind racing. A healer stumbling upon them in the middle of nowhere? It seemed too convenient, yet the sincerity in the man's gaze was hard to dismiss.
The dog, sensing Jon's relaxation, ceased its growling and settled more comfortably on the ground, though its eyes remained locked on the stranger.
"It seems you have acquired a faithful companion," the healer remarked, nodding towards the dog, his expression softening momentarily.
Jon smiled weakly, finding the current situation absurd. "Yeah, he’s more than meets the eyes, it seems."
The healer knelt down, keeping a cautious eye on the dog, and extended a hand, not touching, but offering. "I can help with the injuries, both yours and the dog’s. No strings attached."
Jon allowed him to examine his wounds, sitting still despite the discomfort. "Your wounds are not grave, fortunately," the healer remarked after a thorough examination. "A few days of rest should see you back on your feet. However, your clavicle and nose are broken; these injuries will require more time to heal properly. But given your youth, I anticipate a smooth recovery."
As the healer spoke, Jon couldn't help but notice the man's youth, possibly even more than his own. But what truly captivated him were the healer's eyes: dark purple, a shade so deep and unusual in his native world. Jon had read about all sorts of exotic traits in cultivation stories, from green hair to glowing skin, but never had he seen such eyes in reality.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Catching Jon's intense gaze, the healer looked puzzled, a hint of alarm flickering in his eyes. "...Is there something on my face?" he inquired.
Embarrassed by his own rudeness, Jon quickly averted his gaze. "Ah, sorry for staring, man," he muttered.
The man stood up, brushing off the apology with a graceful wave of his hand. "No need to apologize," he said.
Changing the subject, the healer looked intently at Jon. "Were you among the individuals fleeing the explosion? Do you perchance know what transpired?" .
Jon hesitated, Huo Zheng’s warning about trust echoing in his mind. Despite the healer’s seemingly genuine concern and friendly demeanor, Jon decided to err on the side of caution. "I... I don't know what happened," he lied, his voice steady. "I was hunting with my dog and got caught in this mess."
The healer nodded, his expression unreadable. "I see," he said slowly.
"Our village is not too far from here, merely a few hundreds of li* away," the healer offered. "I could escort you there if you wish, or assist you in returning to your residence. Do you dwell nearby?"
Jon, still gently patting the dog, found himself floundering for an answer. The healer's offer, kind and unexpected, took him off guard. "Ah, I... I lost my house in the explosion," he blurted out, surprised at his own quick fabrication. Lying wasn’t his forte, yet the words came out smoothly, almost naturally in the face of necessity.
"That is most unfortunate," the man replied. "Yet, it is fortunate you survived; that remains of paramount importance."
Jon could only muster a weak chuckle in response. "Yeah, haha..."
Jon inquired, "There were people in front of me when I was running away. Do you perhaps know where they are?" His question was strategic, aimed more at changing the subject than acquiring any real information.
After a brief pause, the healer's reply came, tinged with a hint of sadness. "...Very few survived. We transported them to the village two days ago."
"I see," Jon murmured, his mind racing. Then, the gravity of the healer's words struck him like a cold splash of water. "Did you say two days ago?!" His voice rose in disbelief, eyes widening as he grappled with the timeline.
"Yes," the healer confirmed, his gaze piercing. "Have you, perchance, been unconscious all this time?"
Jon didn’t respond immediately, his thoughts spiraling. Two days—had it really been that long? Panic clawed at his chest, not for his situation, but for his mother. He had vanished without a trace, submerged in this world of chaos and cultivation, leaving her with no explanation. The worry that must be gnawing at her heart filled him with a sudden, intense dread.
As Jon wrestled with his thoughts, the healer, perceptive to his inner turmoil, suggested, "Mount my horse with your dog, and let us hasten to the village. Perhaps a warm tea will aid in clearing your mind" Offering a hand, the healer helped Jon to his feet.
Gratefully, Jon accepted the help, but as he stood up, his hand inadvertently pressed against the healer’s chest. To his astonishment, it felt... soft, unusually soft for a man, padded with extra layers of clothing that seemed out of place. The healer, reacting with a swift, reflexive push, distanced himself from Jon’s unintended touch.
"Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to..." Jon stammered, taken aback by the suddenness of the reaction.
In that awkward moment, Jon caught a glimpse of the healer’s face, marked by surprise and something else—embarrassment. Yet, curiously, no flush of redness tinged the healer's cheeks, an oddity that piqued Jon’s attention. His gaze sharpened, taking in the details he had overlooked before. The healer’s face, though not strikingly noble, was unusually refined for someone from the backwaters of the Jianghu, even for a villager—a face well-kept, with teeth as aligned and pristine as those in Jon’s world.
Size-wise, the healer was smaller than Jon initially thought, barely reaching 170 centimeters. A realization dawned on him. In xianxia tales, disguises were common, with masks so lifelike they could fool anyone. Don't tell me...? Jon's mind raced, piecing together the soft chest, the maintained appearance, the perfect teeth, and the slight stature.
Yep, that’s a woman, Jon concluded internally, his face a mask of neutrality while his mind danced with mirthful incredulity.
Jon's humor faded as the gravity of the situation settled in. Great, just what I needed, he mused, a mysterious lady inviting me to an exclusive, unnamed village. Sounds like the beginning of a horror story... or a really bad date.
Yet the levity of his thoughts couldn’t dispel the underlying tension. The woman’s disguise suggested she was hiding something, possibly her identity, or worse, her intentions. And if she was a cultivator, which seemed likely given the quality of her disguise—presumably expensive and thus accessible only to those with substantial resources—then Jon was potentially walking into a trap.
He couldn’t detect any Qi emanating from her, but his ability to sense such energies was rudimentary at best. She could be concealing her Qi, a tactic surely within the means of an experienced cultivator. Jon’s mind raced with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Was she adept enough to identify his nascent Qi? After all, his own understanding of this life force was barely surface-level.
This is a tough spot, Jon murmured to himself. The prospect of becoming a captive to another cultivator, especially in a village that might be a nest for some loco gringo practitioners, was not appealing. Though, it is more appropriate to say Jon was the gringo here.
Nah, I'm outta this place, Jon resolved internally, his mind already scheming an escape. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, not when the stakes involved his freedom, possibly even his life.
He needed a plan, something to distance himself from the woman without arousing suspicion, to buy time until he could safely make a break for it.
"Actually," Jon began, feigning a reconsideration, "I just remembered a friend nearby who might help. No need to trouble your village."