They passed through thick smoke and debris, escaping the building. Fortunately, everyone who came here was not an ordinary person.
After rushing out, Gou Songze had already borrowed a fire truck. They mixed the rootless water from the pure bottle into the water tank and sprayed it to extinguish the fire. Xia Xianning retreated to an open space, then released Luo Mingbai’s hand and set down the person from his shoulder.
They were all in a sorry state, even those uninjured were covered in black soot.
Luo Mingbai knelt on the ground, hastily checking the person’s injuries.
He casually wiped the person’s face with his sleeve, but upon seeing his facial features clearly, Luo Mingbai’s movements suddenly stopped.
Staring at that familiar face, he doubted his own eyes: “…Peng Xuan?
Luo Yingbai examined the scar on Peng Xuan’s hand and said: “This wound is from a sword slash, right? If not treated in time, this arm could be permanently damaged—why didn’t you say anything about getting hurt?” Peng Xuan was not a lively, likable child and was difficult to communicate with. Luo Yingbai had a good temper and spent half a day persuading him to understand that he didn’t dare to mention being injured while practicing sword fighting, fearing his master and senior brothers would think he was useless and kick him out. Luo Yingbai found medicine for him, bandaged his wound, taught him the sword technique that had caused his injury, and told him, “As long as I’m in the Changliu Sect, no one can make you leave. Next time you’re injured and don’t want to tell anyone, you can come to me; otherwise, if you don’t get timely treatment, your arm will be useless, and you can forget about seeking revenge.”
The person closest to Peng Xuan in the Changliu Sect, Luo Yingbai, knew that Peng Xuan was different from most of his junior brothers. Their sect and the Yingxing Sect had different rules, which emphasized lineage; generally, their disciples came from good backgrounds, raised to be proper and gentle from a young age.
