“All right, stop making a scene and get up. Let’s go back.”
“Big brother, you’re not standing up for me…”
“Standing up for you? That guy’s not someone to mess with. Within a hundred-mile radius of Shenxiao Sect, I remember every face with a seven or above on the looks scale, but this one I don’t recall at all. Plus, he easily took you down just now. I’m pretty sure it can only be Lin Yin, the rarely seen Chief of Lingjian Peak from Shenxiao Sect!”
“What?! Then why is she here…”
Old Meng was about to say more but was abruptly grabbed by the arm by the man, silencing him.
……
Room No. 1, Tianzi Inn.
The waiter, seeing that Lin Yin was no ordinary cultivator, respectfully led her to a room.
The room was elegantly decorated, with a few green potted plants placed by the window.
The moment they stepped in, the air felt incredibly fresh.
Lin Yin handed the waiter a few Middle-grade Spirit Stones, which left the waiter stunned.
Even in the prime location of Shenxiao Town, a few Middle-grade Spirit Stones wouldn’t be enough to buy out this entire inn, but it was roughly equivalent to more than a year’s salary for him.
Lin Yin said it was compensation for the things she had just broken.
Seeing this, the waiter smiled and left downstairs, leaving the two alone in the room.
Lin Yin behaved normally, but Jiang Che looked uncomfortable.
At that moment, Lin Yin had taken off Jiang Che’s shoes and was carefully washing his feet.
She also noticed the wound on Jiang Che’s right leg but said nothing.
Throughout the journey, Lin Yin had said very little about Jiang Che’s situation, as if afraid to touch on his painful memories.
Of course, even if Lin Yin asked, Jiang Che wouldn’t answer.
He had already decided that no matter what Lin Yin asked or said, he wouldn’t utter a word.
But Lin Yin didn’t ask!
Jiang Che’s carefully prepared responses went unused.
“Che’er, were you still angry about that guy downstairs joking with you?”
Jiang Che let out a bitter laugh; he didn’t want to answer at all.
To be honest, he was a bit surprised Lin Yin would step in like that.
In the past, she never intervened when the disciples had conflicts, but today she actually personally taught that clearly deranged guy a lesson.
Although Jiang Che couldn’t see it, he could imagine how painful it must have been to have his face smashed through a table and hit the ground hard.
But what was the point of Lin Yin doing that?
“I have a few questions for you.”
At those words, Lin Yin paused washing his feet.
She dipped the cloth back into the water, wrung it out, then continued.
“Hmm…”
Jiang Che took a deep breath before speaking.
“First, why didn’t you use spiritual power to hit that guy just now? You seemed to just enhance your physical body.
Second, why haven’t you summoned your Qingluan Sword the entire way? Wouldn’t flying back to the sect be faster?
Third… forget it.”
Jiang Che’s voice was cold as he stopped himself at the third question.
Lin Yin remained silent but soon realized she owed Jiang Che an explanation.
“Che’er, I’ll explain everything when we get back to the sect, okay?”
Lin Yin hadn’t expected Jiang Che to be so perceptive.
As a sword cultivator, fighting a body cultivator several ranks apart with just physical strength was unnecessary.
Spiritual pressure alone would have suffocated the opponent.
Jiang Che clearly wasn’t expecting much and then added.
“Then one more question.
Feng Yaqin… she is…”
Jiang Che had wanted to ask about Feng Yaqin, because if she found out he was missing, she would definitely come looking for him.
But along the way, there had been no sign of her.
He had originally thought Feng Yaqin would secretly follow them from a distance, waiting for the right moment to take Jiang Che away.
But since Lin Yin was at the Refining Void stage, Feng Yaqin would definitely be discovered if she followed closely.
And when it came time to ask, Jiang Che couldn’t even describe Feng Yaqin’s appearance.
Lin Yin paused briefly, then answered after a moment: “You’re talking about that Magic Cultivator woman, right?”
“Magic Cultivator?”
Only now did Jiang Che realize that Feng Yaqin was a Magic Cultivator.
He couldn’t help but sigh.
“She’s not in the village. I can’t sense her aura, so she’s probably already left.”
Hearing that answer, Jiang Che didn’t know what exactly he was thinking, but he had long understood that Feng Yaqin was not from his world and should have left long ago.
So he didn’t dwell on it, turning over to lie on the bed, hiding his disappointment deep inside.
Lin Yin moved to the tea table and sat down, feeling somewhat gloomy.
Actually, she wanted to know if Jiang Che was happy that she had intervened.
But Jiang Che didn’t care in the slightest.
He even asked about some unrelated woman.
She wanted to say she had truly changed.
The frustration inside made her want to take some wine from her Storage Ring, but looking at Jiang Che, she chose instead to open the window and fly out.
Then she sat on the beam outside, took out a jar of wine, and gulped down a mouthful.
The wine jar clashed with her moon-white robe, and her drinking posture lacked any heroic flair.
There was only awkwardness and self-inflicted pain.
…
Feng Yaqin had been feeling anxious lately, as if something important was slipping further away from her.
And when she returned to the Holy Demon Sect, she was constantly given evasive answers.
They said the Zongzhu’s injuries were severe, with a team of Alchemists and Healers rushing to save him, and she wasn’t allowed to see him.
Finally, one night, she knocked out a maid, disguised herself, and quietly followed to discover why female Alchemists and Refiners had been entering her father’s room every few days.
She distinctly remembered that the sect’s best Sixth-grade Alchemist was male.
When she entered the room, she found her father Feng Lie surrounded by female Alchemists, eating grapes handed to him, left and right.
Quite the ‘uniform’ series.
“Daughter! Your father was wrong! Hey! Don’t—don’t pull! The whiskers won’t be symmetrical anymore!”
Inside the main hall, Feng Yaqin had driven away all the maids.
This hall was usually where Feng Lie handled sect affairs.
Now, Feng Yaqin was holding Feng Lie’s head, plucking out his whiskers one by one.
“My dear old father, look at you—almost three hundred years old but not aging a bit.
Why keep the whiskers? No wonder you can’t find a wife.
I’m plucking them for your own good.”
Feng Lie, Zongzhu of the Holy Demon Sect, wore a black robe embroidered with phoenix patterns, with sharp brows and piercing eyes, radiating dominance.
There wasn’t a single wrinkle on his face.
At this moment, only his whiskers gave him the appearance of a sect leader.
But now they were falling out faster than his hair.
“Qin’er, your father just missed you too much and resorted to this! Besides, I wasn’t lying; I really was attacked!”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Feng Yaqin raised an eyebrow, pausing her task.
She put down the whiskers, the light from her Storage Ring flickered, and the small plucking clip disappeared, replaced by a slightly larger razor.
She had been using this father-child grooming kit for years and was very skilled.
But Feng Lie had already started pleading at the top of his lungs.
“Qin’er! Father won’t dare again!”
“Shut up! I don’t believe a word from you, the scoundrel who put a Projection Stone outside my room!”
“Holy Maiden, please stop!”
Just then, Old Meng, who had tricked Feng Yaqin into returning, rushed in from the doorway.
“Holy Maiden! The Zongzhu really isn’t lying—he was attacked, and it was by the same group that attacked you!”