Qin Zifeng waved his hand, as if finally venting the gloom in his heart, and slowly stood up, bracing himself against the table.
“All right, that’s all I can tell you. This old body gets tired after sitting too long. You two siblings… wait a moment, I’ll send you on your way in a bit.”
“Hey!”
Jiang Che abruptly raised his head, his voice caught in his throat, and a suppressed fury tensed his spine.
“Aren’t you afraid? She’s an Inner Disciple of the Shenxiao Sect! If you dare to kill her, the Shenxiao Sect will hunt you to the ends of the earth!”
“No need to scare me. I know full well the consequences of laying a hand on an Inner Disciple.”
Unfortunately, this old man never intended to lay a hand on you. You two were always a hot potato from the start.
He turned his face slightly.
“It’s just that someone forced this old man to do it.”
At those words, Jiang Che was shocked! His emotions instantly surged.
What the hell! There’s someone else behind this!
“Hey! Who is it! Who put you up to this?!”
“Shh, keep it down, don’t get agitated. Just wait a bit longer.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of a door slamming shut came—“clang”.
Jiang Che gnashed his teeth in rage.
He hadn’t expected there to be someone else involved. He didn’t know who, but he had a feeling this was directed at him.
Hu Qiao’er had only just arrived and couldn’t possibly have offended anyone.
That left only one possibility: it was he himself who had provoked this.
And the reason Jiang Che was so agitated was because he had implicated Hu Qiao’er.
Jiang Che, oh Jiang Che! Are you out of your mind? If you want to die, just die! Why drag Hu Qiao’er down with you.
Qin Zifeng stumbled as he pushed open the courtyard gate.
In the dim courtyard, a figure dressed in dark robes was already standing there, his face tightly covered by a black cloth.
“All done?” The masked man spoke, his voice deliberately rough and hard to distinguish.
Qin Zifeng gave him a long look, a flash of understanding and exhaustion in his cloudy eyes.
“All done.” He paused, then continued, “Actually, you don’t need to wear that mask. There’s no one else here, and this old man recognizes you, Senior Brother Zhao Zi’ang.”
A suffocating silence followed.
The masked man stiffened for a moment.
He lifted his hand and finally tore off the black cloth from his face, revealing the young yet somewhat sullen face of Zhao Zi’ang.
He tugged at the corner of his mouth in a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Having an old man like you call me Senior Brother still feels weird.”
Qin Zifeng ignored the disrespectful tone, caring only about one thing now:
“Then, Master Zhao,” his voice dropped low, tinged with urgency, “what you said before—do you really have a way to help me hide my identity so the Shenxiao Sect won’t hunt me down?”
“Of course.”
Zhao Zi’ang lifted his chin slightly, exuding the confidence of someone in control.
“Not only can I help you conceal your identity, I can also stabilize your injuries. After all…” he paused meaningfully, “You… have suffered serious internal injuries, haven’t you?”
Qin Zifeng’s stooped figure shuddered almost imperceptibly, his eyelids twitching violently.
This brat… he actually knows? Not long ago, he’d indeed been wounded by Lin Yin’s domineering sword aura.
That powerful sword aura had nearly drained his body of all life.
That was precisely why he’d had to take such a desperate risk—absorbing the vital blood of that pregnant woman.
He took a deep breath and said, “Empty words mean nothing. Why should I trust you? You’re only at the Zhuji Realm.”
Qin Zifeng’s voice turned cold and hard again, tinged with ridicule, and an invisible pressure spread through the air.
He was sure that even wounded, he could easily crush this Zhuji Realm ant.
But Zhao Zi’ang was completely unfazed.
“Old man, I might not have that ability, but someone I know does! Ever heard of a Grade Five Resurrection Pill?”
Qin Zifeng’s brows furrowed—of course he’d heard of it.
Although the Resurrection Pill was a healing pill, compared to the popular Washing Marrow Pill or pills that improved aptitude and cultivation, it was by no means inferior.
Because this pill could perfectly restore a user’s vital blood, meridians, and divine sense.
Useful to any cultivator below the Nascent Soul stage—except it couldn’t bring back the dead.
“You have one?”
“Of course I do. It all depends on whether you behave.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Faced with the lure of the Resurrection Pill, Qin Zifeng naturally chose to compromise.
At this, Zhao Zi’ang’s face was instantly filled with an arrogant, triumphant grin.
“Hahahaha! That’s more like it! It’s simple—you just need to master this!”
With a flourish, he pulled a thin, leather-bound booklet from his robes and slapped it into Qin Zifeng’s arms.
Qin Zifeng had never seen someone so arrogant before—it didn’t match his face at all.
On the cover were three characters: “Soul Search Technique.”
“This is the Soul Search Technique. That little brat’s mind holds something I want. Get it out for me, and I’ll give you the pill and help smooth things over for you.”
“Soul Search Technique? Why don’t you do it yourself?”
Qin Zifeng was speechless. Why did he need to practice this thing?
Zhao Zi’ang sneered.
“Ha! Do I look stupid to you? Why do the work myself when I have labor to use?”
Xuandan Peak.
Xu Qianlan was drinking sullenly.
“Xiao Che, my little Che, when will you finally understand my feelings.”
Xu Qianlan wore a look of utter frustration.
Just then, a disciple called out loudly from outside the door.
“Xu Head, Head Kong of Yushou Peak asked me to find you!”
Xu Qianlan frowned.
What’s going on? Coming to bother her at this hour—today’s disciple instruction time had long since ended, and she hadn’t dismissed class early.
She opened the door and went out.
“What’s the matter?”
Xu Qianlan frowned at the disciple before her. She swore that if it wasn’t something important, she’d shut the door and claim not to be in.
“Xu Head, the Heiwen Lion’s mood is unstable. Head Kong hopes you can come take a look, and also bring a few Beast Spirit Pills.”
“The Heiwen Lion’s mood is unstable? Must be in heat—if it’s a male, pair it with a female, and if it’s a female, find it a mate.”
Xu Qianlan replied offhandedly.
“Wait, which Heiwen Lion?”
“Reporting to Head, it’s the one called Little White.”
Xu Qianlan snapped to attention—she knew this one.
It was the one Jiang Che raised. When he’d first named it Little White, she’d even laughed about it.
Without another thought, Xu Qianlan rode her sword and flew off.
Ling Shou Peak.
Inside a barrier, a huge lion with gray-white mane gave a low, muffled roar. Its mane was bristling, eyes wide with fury.
Outside the barrier, a giant black tiger with a pair of wings also let out a low growl, its eyes shining with a cold light.
“Little White! What are you doing? Calm down!”
A girl, standing about one-point-six meters tall and dressed in white robes trimmed with pink, looked at Little White with a worried face.
This was Kong Ranran, the Head of Yushou Peak. She usually had her spiritual beast, Xiao Hei, appear as a little black cat.
Yet even in front of someone familiar, Little White still looked ready to break through the barrier at any moment.
“What happened!?”
Xu Qianlan arrived, her brows knitting as she took in the situation.
Little White was raised by Jiang Che. With her affection for Jiang Che, she also cared deeply for Little White.
Kong Ranran said, “I don’t know either. It was fine during the day, but now it’s suddenly like this. It even injured a disciple just now. I tried to communicate with it using the Beast Taming Art, but it refused.”
“You step aside—let me try.”