Awesome

Half an hour later.

As Chu Mengyou finished dressing and prepared to leave, Li Chuan quickly caught up to her: "Senior Sister, let’s return together. It’s safer that way."

The two flew side by side on their swords, with only a dozen or so miles left to the Yin-Yang Sect, when Li Chuan suddenly pointed to a small stream winding through the forest below and said, "Senior Sister, the sound of this stream is so soothing. Why don’t we rest here for a while?"

"......?"

Chu Mengyou stared at Li Chuan in disbelief. "Junior Brother, we’re almost at the sect. If you want to rest, go ahead. I won’t be joining you."

"No, Senior Sister must accompany me." Li Chuan then took out 21 Spirit Stones from his Qiankun Bag.

"You—how do you still have these?!" Chu Mengyou was stunned.

Then she grew annoyed. "Why didn’t you take them all out earlier?"

Li Chuan didn’t answer. Instead, he landed by the stream and beckoned to her. "This isn’t the attitude you should have. Do you still want the Spirit Stones or not?"

"Of course I do." Without hesitation, Chu Mengyou descended and stood beside him.

"That’s more like it." Li Chuan pulled her close and placed the Spirit Stones in her hand.

......

Half an hour later.

Chu Mengyou soared back into the air on her sword.

"Junior Brother, today I battled evil cultivators and am utterly exhausted. Let’s end our encounter here. We’ll continue this another day."

From start to finish, she hadn’t even asked for his name.

"What ‘another day’? I’ll come find you first thing tomorrow."

Lying by the stream, listening to the babbling water, Li Chuan felt an unprecedented sense of contentment.

He closed his eyes, savoring the memory.

Unconsciously, Li Chuan drifted into sleep by the stream.

Generally, a cultivator’s time was precious, so most didn’t sleep at night. Instead, they meditated—relieving fatigue while cultivating, killing two birds with one stone.

Li Chuan had been the same, squeezing every drop of time from the night. But ever since arriving at the Yin-Yang Sect, he’d been slacking off, sleeping in every day, and hadn’t cultivated at night in ages.

Dark clouds veiled the half-moon, leaving only the murmur of the stream and the chirping of insects.

As the night reached its midpoint, Li Chuan suddenly jolted awake.

He leapt to his feet, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s, scanning his surroundings. "Where is this scent of blood coming from?"

As someone who had faced death countless times, Li Chuan was all too familiar with the stench of blood.

He could even tell immediately that this was human blood, not from any other creature.

This was Yin-Yang Sect territory—in theory, no one should be fighting here in the dead of night.

Li Chuan cautiously approached the stream, realizing the scent was emanating from the water.

When he looked upstream, he faintly spotted something floating in the current, drifting downstream.

Li Chuan immediately took to the air, but instead of heading straight for the object, he flew higher to confirm there was no danger before returning to the bank.

Now he could see—it was a man, carried by the current.

His black-and-white robes were soaked in blood, and he was completely unconscious, neither alive nor dead.

Normally, Li Chuan would have ignored this. But black-and-white robes were the most formal attire for Yin-Yang Sect disciples.

The sect had no dress code—disciples could even walk around naked if they wanted, and no one would care.

Generally, disciples only wore sect robes when traveling far, needing the Yin-Yang Sect’s reputation as backing.

The robes came in many styles: white outer with black lining, black outer with white lining, black-and-white interwoven...

But this stark black-and-white division? It was almost exclusively reserved for major occasions.

"Hey, wake up." Li Chuan fished the man out and found him still breathing but unresponsive.

He must be severely injured, deep in unconsciousness.

Li Chuan probed the man’s Qiankun Bag with his divine sense, only to find the spiritual imprint as unyielding as stone. Without a doubt, this fellow disciple was at least at the Foundation Establishment stage.

Without hesitation, Li Chuan hoisted the unconscious senior onto his back and flew toward the Yin-Yang Sect on his sword.

As the saying went, honor and disgrace were shared. The Yin-Yang Sect was one of the world’s greatest cultivation factions, but this was merely a branch sect, far removed from the main headquarters.

Branch sects had faced disasters before—not just the Yin-Yang Sect, but any major faction’s outposts were vulnerable.

Li Chuan’s comfortable life had only just begun. He had no intention of letting the Min Mountain Branch Sect fall into chaos.

The taste of Senior Sister Chu Mengyou… even now, the memory left him savoring the afterglow.