Luo Qingci opened her eyes groggily.
Consciousness returned slowly, as if something had stirred in her mind, mixing memory and reality into a cloudy soup.
The first thing that came into view was a lush canopy.
Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the leaves, shining on her face, a little dazzling.
She squinted unconsciously and tried to raise her hand to block it, but her hand stopped halfway.
Her stomach hurt terribly.
She touched it with her hand.
As soon as her fingers contacted her abdomen, the pain flared up like it had been ignited, so sharp that she almost cried out.
It hurt even more.
She lifted her head slightly and looked down at her stomach—her white disciple robe was gone, and she was wrapped in a gray-green outer robe that was clearly not hers.
Though the clothes had been changed, she could feel that her Primordial Yin was still intact.
Through the gaps in the fabric, she could see a large bluish-purple bruise on her waist and abdomen, stretching from her left ribs to her right.
The color was as deep as an overripe plum.
‘Was that from being hit by those snakes’ tails?’
She frowned, trying to remember.
Her memory was a bit chaotic.
She only recalled running through a narrow passage, rushing out of a cave mouth, and then… jumping into a river?
No, it felt more like falling into a river?
And then what?
She couldn’t remember clearly.
The last image in her mind was a green snake body glistening in the sunlight, a triangular head raised high, and a forked tongue expanding infinitely in her vision.
Then it was all darkness.
And then, now.
She was lying on a riverbank somewhere, covered by someone else’s clothes, with a mysterious bruise on her stomach.
And… wasn’t she supposed to be dead?
She was certain she had been poisoned.
That uncomfortable feeling welling up from the depths of her dantian couldn’t be an illusion.
The poison of a Peak Qi Refining Jade-scale Python had almost no chance of survival for a cultivator below Foundation Establishment.
But she was still alive.
‘Who had saved her?’
Luo Qingci slowly turned her head to survey her surroundings.
This was a clearing by a river.
On her left was a river about ten meters wide, with fallen leaves and branches floating on the surface.
On her right was a forest of varying tree heights, the ground covered with thick decaying leaves and weeds.
Beside where she lay was a pile of still-smoking campfire embers.
The firewood had mostly burned, and gray-white ash drifted gently in the wind.
“Man!”
A powerful shout came from not far away, echoing through the open woods, startling a few unknown birds from the canopy.
Luo Qingci turned her head sharply.
About sixty meters away in a forest clearing, a young man in a gray-green long robe stood in front of a big tree.
He seemed around twenty years old, with a delicate face and a lazy, easygoing look.
His clothes were the most common rogue cultivator attire—the cuffs and collar were washed white, but clean, showing they had been worn for years.
At this moment, he was holding his breath and concentrating, his right arm bent at the elbow, his whole body like a drawn bowstring.
“Meteor-Shattering Sky Elbow!”
He shouted, and his figure vanished instantly from where he stood.
He didn’t actually disappear—it was that his speed was so fast that Luo Qingci’s vision barely caught up.
The next moment, he had appeared beside the big tree, his right elbow striking hard against the trunk.
“Man!”
Crack—
The tree, thick as three men embracing it, broke cleanly at the point of the elbow strike.
The upper half, along with the full crown of leaves, lifted into the air, arcing low and level toward the river.
It landed far out on the water, splashing up a large cloud of muddy foam.
Luo Qingci lay still, her gaze shifting from the flying trunk back to the young man.
Her mouth twitched.
‘Meteor-Shattering Sky Elbow? What the hell?’
She had never heard of such a technique.
In her four years at Qingyun Sect, she had seen countless cultivation methods and martial skills, but this “Meteor-Shattering Sky Elbow”…
Which obscure corner did this wild technique come from?
And with such a lofty name, why was there no special effect at all?
Logically, a technique that could break a tree thick as three men in one blow should be at least Upper Yellow Grade.
When executed, it should be accompanied by spiritual energy release, fierce Qi flow, and flashing spiritual light—an impressive display.
But this person’s technique had none of that.
No spiritual energy fluctuation, no visual effects, no outward release of Qi.
Not even the feeling of fierce wind on the face that ordinary cultivators produced when using martial skills.
It was just like… an ordinary person’s martial arts.
No, ordinary martial arts at least had the sound of bones and tendons snapping.
This person’s technique, apart from the final “crack” of the tree breaking, was completely silent.
‘Wasn’t this just pure brute force?’
Luo Qingci watched as the young man slowly withdrew his elbow, straightened up, and brushed the dust off his hands.
He looked at the remaining stump with satisfaction, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned in a hint of pride.
She reviewed the scene in her mind again.
A tree as thick as three men, broken in one elbow strike.
No spiritual energy fluctuation.
‘These people were the sharpest—clearly strong but pretending to use a technique to deceive others.’
Luo Qingci looked away, staring at the canopy above.
She figured she probably wasn’t fully awake yet.
“Man!”
‘Why did he shout “Man” every time he executed his move?’
Before she could figure it out, the young man noticed her and walked over.
His steps were neither fast nor slow, the hem of his gray-green robe fluttering gently in the wind.
When he was about three meters away, he stopped and looked down at her.
Luo Qingci looked back at him.
Their eyes met.
The air was silent for a moment.
“You’re awake,” he said.
His voice was neither high nor low, carrying that lazy, easygoing tone, as if stating something ordinary.
Luo Qingci didn’t answer immediately.
She quickly assessed the situation in her mind—
First, she was injured.
The bruise on her waist and abdomen was no small matter; she’d need at least a few days to recover.
But the poison in her body was completely gone.
Second, she didn’t know who this person was, but one thing was certain—he had saved her.
No matter what, she was still alive, lying here, not sinking to the bottom of the river being eaten by fish.
Third, his cultivation level—she sensed it.
Peak of Qi Refining, same as hers.
“I changed your clothes.”
Xiao Han noticed her gaze linger on the outer robe he was wearing.
He spoke up first, “It was urgent at the time. You were soaked through. If I hadn’t changed you, the cold Qi would have invaded your body.”
He pointed to a tree not far away.
Luo Qingci followed his gesture—her white disciple robe was hanging on a branch, swaying slowly in the wind, already half dry.
She turned back to look at Xiao Han.
“That bruise on your waist…”
Xiao Han continued, his tone carrying a subtle nuance.
“You got hit by something. It was already like that when I found you.”
Luo Qingci looked at him again.
Xiao Han looked back, his expression candid—but a little too candid.
Then Xiao Han said something that struck her as very subtle—
“Miss, rest assured. Since I saved you from danger, I won’t harm you.”
He paused.
“As for how the danger came about… I think you probably have an idea… right?”
Luo Qingci was silent for a moment.
She pieced the whole thing together in her mind—poisoned, jumped into the river, rescued, the bruise on her waist, the flying tree trunk, and the subtle guilty expression on this person’s face.
She came to a conclusion.
“Mhm,” she said.
“I was poisoned by a Jade-scale Python, then got smacked in the stomach by one of those beasts’ tails and fell into the river.”
Xiao Han turned to add firewood, his back to her.
“Oh, that Jade-scale Python is so vicious,” he said, his tone still flat.
“Good thing I gave you an Antidote Pill.”
Luo Qingci looked at his back.
She was sure she didn’t know this person.
She searched every face in her memory, but none matched the silhouette in front of her.
But he had saved her.
Changed her clothes, given her an Antidote Pill, built a fire, covered her with his robe.
She didn’t know who he was or why he had saved her.
But overall—he was a lifesaver, and he hadn’t taken advantage of her while she was unconscious.
‘A true gentleman.’
Luo Qingci lowered her head, then lifted it again.
She spoke to the figure tending the fire, her voice a little hoarse.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
Xiao Han’s hand paused for a moment, then he continued adding wood to the fire.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Just lie down for now. I’ll call you when the water is ready.”
Leaning against a stone behind her, Luo Qingci slowly adjusted herself to a less painful position.
She watched the blue smoke rising above the campfire, drifting toward the gray-blue sky, slowly dispersing, merging into the twilight.
Her stomach still hurt…
‘That snake really had a lot of strength…’
She silently cursed those stinking snakes again.
“My name is Luo Qingci,” she said. “If you ever need help in the future, come find me at Qingyun Sect.”
The crackling of breaking firewood came from the campfire.
“My name is Xiao Han.”
He didn’t turn around, his voice muffled by the firelight.
“You…” Luo Qingci started.
“The water’s ready,” Xiao Han interrupted.
He lifted the boiled kettle, poured some hot water into a coarse earthen bowl, turned around, and handed it to her.
“Drink some water first. Your voice is hoarse.”
Luo Qingci took the bowl and looked down at the steaming clear water.
She was silent for a long time.
There were many questions she wanted to ask.
Where did this person come from? Why did he save her?
But she didn’t ask a single one.
He had interrupted her, probably not wanting to say much.
Besides, she was too tired now.
Tired in body, tired in heart.
She didn’t want to press, didn’t want to probe, didn’t want to put on a mask to guess his intentions in front of this stranger.
‘Anyway, she had survived. This person, while she was unconscious, hadn’t laid a finger on her.’
‘That was enough.’
‘If I were still a man, I’d definitely swear brotherhood with this Brother Xiao.’
Luo Qingci raised the bowl to her lips and took a slow sip.
The water was hot—so hot it numbed her tongue—but the warmth slid down her throat and warmed her all the way to her stomach.
She leaned against the stone, watching the twilight gradually sink, watching the clouds in the sky change from white to gold, from gold to purple, and finally to a heavy gray-blue.
Xiao Han sat across the fire, poking it with a branch, saying nothing.
The two sat in silence, separated by a flame.