Lin Qingtan erged, bidding Ye Chen farewell with her husky voice. After he left, she turned to Li Feihuang, whose phoenix eyes held disbelief. Though the ship's elders knew of their bond, Unity elders were too lofty for gossip, so the news hadn't spread in the Holy Land.
Li Feihuang, fresh from seclusion, sought her master joyfully, only to find her cave active yet inaccessible. Waiting two days, she saw Ye Chen erge and her master's flushed face—obvious what happened.
Lin Qingtan raised an eyebrow. "Why that look? Think I stole your man?"
Li Feihuang's head drooped, voice bitter. "I wouldn't dare!"
Lin Qingtan smiled, noting the "dare" over denial. Stretching in the courtyard, she leaned back on a chair. "I didn't steal him. Holy Son belongs to no one. His talent, generosity, and sincerity are lethal to any female cultivator. I wasn't taken by him—I belong to him. If you're unwilling, go to him yourself."
Li Feihuang's heart ached. She knew Holy Son's greatness—her throne, eting her ancestor, joining the Holy Land—all his doing.
"I'm sorry, Master," she said, seeing Lin Qingtan's rune-free skin, save a fishtail at her navel. Her resolved constitution was surely Ye Chen's work. Her gratitude was natural, their bond inevitable.
Yet Li Feihuang regretted her past mistakes, pained by Ye Chen's indifferent gaze, as if their history ant nothing. Tears fell.
Lin Qingtan sighed. "Stop crying. Co here, let Master hug you." As Li Feihuang nestled into her embrace, she teased, "Next ti Holy Son visits, I'll tip you off and leave the cave open. You 'accidentally' barge in, I 'trap' you to silence you, forcing your devotion. Holy Son will see through it but play along if you know his tastes."
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Li Feihuang, squatting in her master's arms, froze, phoenix eyes wide. Was this her aloof, reserved master? Since when was she so playful? The idea stirred her, yet deepened her regret for past errors.
Unaware of their talk, Ye Chen reached Senior An's cave. Still no response—normal for a Nascent Soul cultivator's multi-year seclusion, but her rapid progress and sealed array felt off. Her awakened past-life mories made him wonder: was she influenced by her past, or had it fully resurfaced?
Ye Chen decided to investigate. With his strength, he could enter without disturbing Senior An. If she was in critical seclusion, he'd confirm and leave. If sothing was wrong, he'd address it imdiately.
Suppressing his aura, a faint Kun Peng shadow flickered behind him. The cave's defensive array, ant to bar outsiders, parted like a water curtain, letting him pass silently. The Kun Peng Treasure Technique rendered arrays powerless.
Familiar with An Miaoli's cave from countless detox sessions, Ye Chen quickly spotted her in a white dress, radiating seven-colored divine light. Her brow's red mole glowed, her beauty ethereal, as if ready to ascend. Shockingly, her cultivation wasn't late Nascent Soul but early Deity Transformation. When had she broken through? This speed was absurd.
Sothing was amiss.
Then, the system chid: "Detected change in An Miaoli's multiplier, adjusting… An Miaoli: 2,000-fold!"
Ye Chen's eyes widened. Her talent was average in the Holy Land, her Heavenly Spirit Root from the Soul-Swaying Stone yielding only a 500-fold multiplier, with no special constitution.
A jump to 2,000—matching the near-emotionless Holy Maiden, only 500 below his fiancée? What gain from her ruin expedition could cause this? Perhaps the Seven Extres Immortal Scripture, enabling the Seven Extres Immortal Body, tied to her seven-colored aura and sudden breakthrough. Her resistance to her past life made voluntary cultivation of such a scripture unlikely. An accident—perhaps her past-life remnant soul awakening?
Ye Chen steadied his breath, planning to trap her silently with his Heavy Pupils thunder in a pure land.
As he approached, An Miaoli's eyes snapped open, no longer ethereal but brimming with chilling killing intent, locked on him. Array runes flared, seven-colored light surging from all directions, forming a strange domain with lethal trapping force, aiming to obliterate him.
"Ye Chen, I've waited long," a cold, unfamiliar voice echoed, unlike An Miaoli's usual tone. "A re native dares defile my avatar's soul? A cri worthy of death…"
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