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Keeping a cautious distance from the surrounding cultivators, Yan Xiaobao tried to stay ahead of the perceivable assaults aid at him.
The ground shifted constantly. Boulders erupted from stable earth and hurtled towards Hui Yue, earth nails erged from the terrain, and sudden walls appeared to harm or block the nimble young man.
Yan Xiaobao no longer underestimated his opponent and issued commands to his clones to coordinate their attacks against the opposing cultivator. They needed to avoid the earth-based assaults while focusing intently on striking with the Qi Sword.
The entire confrontation resembled a dance in which Yan Xiaobao used his speed to penetrate the Master-level cultivator’s range, delivering strikes or slashes before rapidly retreating to deplete more spiritual energy. Each assault demanded Qi from Yan Xiaobao, and his Qi Pool drained rapidly, though it was worth noting that his adversary was similarly strained.
Eventually, the golden aura surrounding the Master-level cultivator dissipated. Yan Xiaobao moved swiftly, resembling wind, closing in next to the fellow cultivator. This ti, a white glowing sword sliced across their neck, severing the head cleanly from the body.
With the fight concluded, Yan Xiaobao left the area imdiately, not sparing a backward glance. Upon returning to the inn where Sha Yun awaited him, he cloaked himself in shadows.
After bathing, Yan Xiaobao’s pale skin regained a healthy, rosy hue after sitting in the warm water for an extended period. Though his struggle against the ranked cultivator left him unhard, his body was utterly exhausted from expending all his Qi during the encounter.
Undoubtedly, Hui Yue held a greater likelihood of eliminating another cultivator sooner, but for that to happen, Yan Xiaobao realized he had to rely more on Lan Feng’s spiritual power than his own pure Qi.
When Yan Xiaobao left the bathroom, a contented sigh escaped his lips as his tired yet smooth muscles relaxed. He could hear the faint sound of the retreating youth’s footsteps before he headed directly to the large bed in the bedroom. Gazing at the bed, Hui Yue wasted no ti reminiscing about his first night under Sha Yun’s attentive company but imdiately let the familiar black sleep engulf him, dragging him into another dreamless night.
Not long after Yan Xiaobao collapsed onto the bed in deep sleep, Sha Yun climbed onto it, her movents graceful. She adjusted Yan Xiaobao, placing him under the blanket with a pillow positioned, allowing her to curl comfortably beside him.
Since Yan Xiaobao and Sha Yun began living together, their sleeping arrangents had beco a significant issue. Sha Yun refused to sleep apart from Yan Xiaobao, leaving the young man feeling pushed to his limits. Still, Sha Yun’s stubbornness rivaled Yan Xiaobao’s; her habit of curling up beside him in bed persisted, leaving him no choice but to eventually relent.
Sha Yun gazed at the sleeping young man before her, her expression shifting between fondness and solemnity. She leaned forward to gently kiss his forehead before surrendering to the pull of sleep herself.
The next morning, Hui Yue sighed deeply, once again finding himself ensnared by Sha Yun’s serpent-like tail, which had been used as cushioning during the night. Though initially challenging to extricate himself without disturbing or further tangling with Sha Yun, years of cultivation granted him the skill to slip away effortlessly. Moving from the bed to the center of the room, Hui Yue sat down to ditate, delving into his body to create a spiritual projection that entered the Dantian Cave.
"There’s still not any news about the Deng Family. It seems their knowledge about those assassins matches ours—utter ignorance," Lan Feng sighed, looking at the approaching spiritual projection. Sitting side by side, leaning against the Qi Cave’s walls, Yan Xiaobao took a deep breath, closed his eyes, lost in thought.
"The only ones with reason to try and kill should be those behind the Crusaders," Yan Xiaobao deliberated aloud. "But it’s been over four years since their last appearance—why choose to strike now?"
’I don’t know,’ Lan Feng replied wearily. "We can only wait and see, but their assassins’ rankings are steadily rising." Lan Feng continued, furrowing his brows. "It feels as though soone is testing you—but for what reason, I cannot say. All you can do now is continue dodging those who seek your life."
Yan Xiaobao kept his eyes closed. The first batch of assassins ranked as disciples, and his decision to kill them wasn’t committed firmly. Unfortunately, they returned with guards, nearly capturing him.
Anger flared within Yan Xiaobao when he spotted their arrival. A vicious red aura overwheld him until he saw the assassins dood by their pre-mission Blood Oath upon failing their task.
After that first assassination attempt, every night upon entering the city, Yan Xiaobao shadowed assassins, whose numbers and capabilities at their cultivation bases gradually escalated—similar to the sluggish yet tenacious opposition Hui Yue faced.
Yet, the most troubling force revolved around the red fog emanating from Hui Yue. With each kill, the fog grew stronger and more oppressive, harder to control. Thankfully, the tranquil blue cloud cultivated steadily, a force that helped suppress the suffocating red mist.
"Well, if whoever sent these assassins truly wants you dead, they’ll achieve their goal sooner or later," Lan Feng sighed. "By the way, isn’t today our birthday?" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ
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