A Scroll of Infinite Glory

As dusk approached, a light rain fell in Guangzhou.

The rain was light, but it made the sky even dimmer, as if it were already past sunset.

Guan Luoyang, along with the instructor and Ma Zhixing, are now hiding under a bridge.

The bridge is low, surrounded by weeds, and extremely damp. Even beggars don't want to come here, but it's a good place to temporarily hide.

When the instructor took Guan Luoyang to find that small ancestral hall, he pointed out these places to be careful of along the way, so that if things didn't go well, they could have a temporary escape route.

He was experienced and had plenty of knowledge in this area. This escape route did indeed come in handy. It's just a pity that the man who was once energetic and attentive is now weak and has cloudy eyes.

Guan Luoyang carefully pressed on his body. His left elbow was dislocated and his ribs seemed to be broken, but they shouldn't have pierced any internal organs, so they weren't any directly fatal injuries.

But the coach was getting increasingly out of breath, his face was turning red, and his forehead was burning.

Ma Zhixing also came closer, dropping the brocade box he was holding to the side. He pressed his ear to the instructor's chest for a while, then said anxiously, "It seems to be a respiratory problem. He has a history of lung disease and pharyngitis; does he cough often?"

The instructor has mastered Qi cultivation; how could he possibly have this kind of illness, unless his lungs were injured during the battle just now?

Guan Luoyang's face darkened as he recalled the frost covering the instructor's chest and abdomen. Although he had managed to shatter the thin layer of frost in time, he couldn't have done anything if the cold had already seeped into his body.

If a person's lungs are frostbitten...

Ma Zhixing had already taken off his sleeveless vest. He was soaking wet, but he didn't care. He folded the wet clothes and covered the coach's chest with them, then pressed his hands together on top of it.

Guan Luoyang quickly said, "He has a broken rib."

"I know, but there's no other way right now. This location shouldn't directly aggravate the rib injury."

Guan Luoyang did not stop him further, but watched his actions carefully from the side.

After pressing down four or five times, Ma Zhixing started coughing. He had swallowed a lot of river water while swimming underwater, and now, while kneeling, he felt his stomach churning and his nose and eyes burning. His hands then spread out.

Guan Luoyang knelt on one knee, reached out with his left hand, and used only his palm to exert force, with his five fingers slightly spread, repeatedly pressing water stains into the sleeveless vest.

Ma Zhixing felt that the rhythm and pressure of the other person's pressing were actually very appropriate, and even gradually adjusted, making it even better than what he had just done.

The coach trembled and suddenly choked, opening his eyes and sitting up. Guan Luoyang promptly withdrew his hand and instead put an arm behind his shoulder to help him sit up.

"You...you're all alright, thank goodness..."

The instructor was already unconscious in the water. When he saw Guan Luoyang and Ma Zhixing, he breathed a sigh of relief, reached into his pocket with his right hand, and pulled out an oil paper package.

Inside the oil paper package was the roster. Guangzhou has a well-developed water system with rivers and streams crisscrossing the city. Before the instructor arrived, he had anticipated that he might need to use water for his mission, so he made this special layer of protection. He used the same thick oil paper used to make oil paper umbrellas, and tied it with many loops of fine cotton thread. Even if it was thrown into the water and soaked for several days, it would be fine.

He handed the roster to Ma Zhixing and said, "I was going to give it to you when we boarded the ship, but I'm afraid I won't be able to wait that long."

Ma Zhixing hesitated to accept the medicine, shaking his head repeatedly, saying, "You can still be saved, you can still be saved. I have some quick-acting respiratory medicine at home, just ask him to come again..."

Ma Zhixing looked at Guan Luoyang, who perked up and was about to get up when the instructor stopped him.

"It's no use. We only know our own situation. My lung meridians are damaged and medicine is no longer effective. If I hadn't succeeded in cultivating Qi, I wouldn't even have had the chance to say these few words."

The coach spoke with a weak, phlegmy tone, coughed again, and forced a smile, "We knew this day would come when we did all this. It's already incredibly lucky that we're not the ones burying our children. Hah, cough cough cough..."

He coughed up several mouthfuls of blood, which splattered on the soil and onto his clothes, all in a dark color. The bloodstains at the corners of his mouth and his swollen face were a shocking sight.

When he was about to hand the roster forward with trembling hands, Ma Zhixing could only accept it with both hands.

The coach's Adam's apple bobbed as he suppressed the metallic taste in his chest. He turned to look at Guan Luoyang. "Luoyang, I'll have to ask you to escort him one last time. You..."

He saw the gunshot wound on Guan Luoyang's body, and his voice faltered, "You...do your best."

Guan Luoyang assured him, "I will definitely let him board the ship; I already have a plan."

Although the coach was still a bit dazed, he understood what the man meant as soon as he heard him say that, and his expression changed slightly.

That method is indeed very feasible, but it is far too dangerous. If infiltrating Guangzhou City only has a 50% chance of failure, then the method Guan Luoyang mentioned has almost a 90% chance of death.

Moreover, he has now been shot and is probably not even 10% likely to survive.

However, it seemed that the coach couldn't offer him any advice.

We've come this far. How many people have sacrificed their lives along the way? How much misery and suffering must have driven these people, regardless of age, to walk the path of sacrifice?

The coach couldn't think of any reason to persuade him, but looking at Guan Luoyang and seeing himself reflected in Guan Luoyang's eyes, he inexplicably thought of a line of poetry.

"Hardship and sorrow have turned my temples white... I've been plagued by illness for a hundred years, and now I stand alone on the stage..."

The words he murmured seemed to be out of order, but he had already thought of his life and this country ravaged by war, and felt that every word he uttered contained endless bitterness and vicissitudes.

The coach blinked and suddenly felt as if there were many tiny sparks of light in front of him.

Those are paper boats that float down the river from upstream. During the Huaguang Festival, monks and Taoist priests would collect flammable wood chips, straw paper, and other materials from house to house, put them on the paper boats, light them, and then send them into the river to drift away with the current.

This is a ritual to send away the fire god and the fire, hoping that the family will be spared from fire.

Each paper boat represents a family's wish.

"These ships are... ha, ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

The instructor's eyes reflected the firelight on the river. After staring at it for a while, he laughed out loud, suppressing the sorrow that had just struck him. He said in a serious and slow voice, "Luoyang, if there really are gods and ghosts in this world, I must make a deal with them after I die."

I have experienced so much bitterness and resentment in my life, and I hope that you, all of you, will have as much joy as possible in the future.

No! You can't just be equal to me; you must be ten times, a hundred times better than me.

Guan Luoyang also saw the firelight, and for some reason, blurted out, "What if they refuse?"

"You won't?"

The instructor thought for a moment and said, "We'll have more dead than all the gods in the heavens. With our superior numbers, who would dare refuse?"

His face wore a bold smile unlike any he had ever shown since he met Guan Luoyang, as he watched the boat on the river getting closer and closer.

Guan Luoyang lowered his head, and his breathing could no longer be heard.

"I will."