Wrong Person

"Long Aoyun, why the hell don't you just call yourself Long Aotian? Even your name sounds punchable."

An Yi yawned, muttering these outrageous words to himself.

To the martial artists of Daxia, the name Long Aoyun was one they dared not speak aloud.

Most addressed him reverently as the "God of War" or the "Master of the Pantheon Hall."

As for someone like An Yi, who even entertained the thought of challenging Long Aoyun—most would wet their pants just considering it.

Scrolling through his phone app, An Yi frowned.

The Hongtian Secret Realm was drawing closer, and even someone as carefree as him was starting to feel the pressure.

The secret realm was perilous beyond measure—describing it as "nine deaths for one survival" wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

A century ago, five hundred people entered, but only one hundred and eight made it out alive.

That was why there were exactly one hundred and eight tokens in existence today.

The secret realm was so dangerous that sect leaders, elders, and other high-ranking figures generally avoided entering.

After all, if a leader or elder were to fall, their entire sect would be crippled.

Without strong protectors, a sect wouldn’t last long.

Because of this, most of the top hundred on the Heavenly Rankings were automatically disqualified.

Those who could enter were mostly rogue cultivators, secondary figures from major sects, or young prodigies—like those on the Hidden Dragon Rankings!

These were the main participants in the Hongtian Secret Realm this time.

Among them, the most notable were the Four Saints of the Enforcement Bureau, the genius disciples from major sects on the Hidden Dragon Rankings, and the heirs of ancient martial families.

Some martial artists who could barely squeeze into the top two hundred of the Heavenly Rankings couldn’t be ignored either.

An Yi calculated his and Lin Chen’s combined strength.

Frankly, it didn’t seem impressive.

Shangguan Qianqian could barely be counted as a combatant, but her actual strength was unclear.

Overall, she wasn’t the best choice.

As for others, Bai Xiu’s strength was solid.

Fang Jueming had been working hard to catch up and was now quite capable.

But inviting them into the secret realm was too risky—they could die.

That was why An Yi had so readily given the token to Shangguan Qianqian in the end.

He simply didn’t have any better options.

Well, actually, there was one person he could bring along—that bespectacled guy whose name An Yi had forgotten.

None of these analyses even mentioned the Asura Gate! What a bunch of blind, worthless writers!

An Yi grumbled internally as he scrolled through the breakdowns of various factions, then yawned and turned off his phone.

His battery was almost dead.

It was nearly 4 a.m., and an hour had passed since he left Shangguan Qianqian’s villa.

His temper had cooled, and he wasn’t as worked up anymore.

Where should he go now?

An Yi was so tired his mind was starting to fog up.

Staying at a hotel was out of the question—that would make him look cowardly!

Screw it, he’d just go home and sleep. What was there to fear from some woman?

An Yi’s courage surged.

He turned the car around and headed home.

Of course, the real issue was the awkwardness of facing Shen Muxuan after what had happened.

After all, that woman was her master.

It definitely wasn’t because he was scared or anything!

He was the leader of the Asura Gate! The boss of An Corporation! How could he be afraid of a woman?

What a joke!

Back at the rental apartment.

Mu Qingyi, exhausted in both body and mind, stepped inside.

Shen Muxuan was fast asleep, sprawled across the entire bed with her limbs tangled in the blankets.

Her stunning face was lit with a faint smile, murmuring something in her dreams.

Mu Qingyi approached and noticed a faint red line, like a blood vessel, becoming more visible on Shen Muxuan’s exposed arm.

"An Yi… Master… Even after I’m gone, you two must be happy…" Shen Muxuan whispered in her sleep.

"Silly girl… Why must you suffer like this?"

Mu Qingyi gently stroked Shen Muxuan’s cheek, her eyes filled with sorrow.

She had no family.

After her master’s death, Shen Muxuan was her only kin—a bond that felt like both a sister and a daughter.

She couldn’t imagine what she’d do if anything happened to Shen Muxuan.

"Mu Xuan… What’s so great about that brat that you’d sacrifice so much for him?"

Mu Qingyi’s voice trembled with grief.

Shen Muxuan’s lifespan had already been short, but now, due to overusing her spiritual energy, it was dwindling even faster.

At this point, even Mu Qingyi didn’t know how much time she had left.

"Sleep well."

Mu Qingyi whispered softly.

Not wanting to disturb her, she got up and headed to An Yi’s room.

An Yi hadn’t returned since leaving yesterday—a full day and night had passed.

He’d run away!

He wouldn’t dare come back even if he had ten lives to spare!

Thinking about last night’s events, Mu Qingyi’s face flushed with anger.

Even though she had been the one to initiate…

That little bastard had tricked her into eating some kind of herb!

In the end, it was all his fault!

Recalling what had happened, Mu Qingyi’s cheeks burned with humiliation.

He was her disciple’s man—how could he have done that to her?!

Her body grew uncomfortably warm, a familiar sensation creeping in.

"Ugh… Another cold shower it is."

After bathing, Mu Qingyi slipped into a nightgown and lay down on An Yi’s bed.

The exhaustion from last night’s "battle" weighed on her, and she quickly fell asleep.

In her drowsy haze…

A pair of hands slid around her waist.

Mu Qingyi’s eyes fluttered open.

Someone was touching her? Who?

These hands definitely didn’t belong to Mu Xuan…

An Yi, having returned to the apartment, was dead tired.

He glanced at Shen Muxuan’s dark, silent room and relaxed.

It was almost 5 a.m., and the sky was starting to brighten—most people would be waking up soon.

Following the principles of energy conservation and not disturbing others’ rest…

An Yi didn’t turn on the lights. He tiptoed into his room, carefully closed the door, and locked it—all without making a sound.

Just as he was about to collapse into bed, he realized someone had already claimed his spot.

"This girl…"

An Yi smirked helplessly.

In the past, if Shen Muxuan had taken his bed, he’d have obediently slept on the floor.

But An Yi—the self-proclaimed "King of the Sea"—wasn’t that naive anymore.

"Idiot. If a girl’s in your bed, shouldn’t you know what she’s thinking?"

He climbed onto the bed, wrapped an arm around the slender waist, and yawned.

"Didn’t I say we’d wait until your master leaves? It’s awkward right now."

"I’m just worried I might hurt her if we fight. Don’t want to put you in a tough spot."

The soft body in his arms stiffened.

An Yi paused. Something felt off.

The texture of her skin wasn’t right.

Shen Muxuan’s skin was smooth and firm, but the body he was holding felt plush and supple—almost familiar, like…

An Yi’s heart pounded with dread, but he desperately hoped he was wrong.

Bracing himself, he let his hand wander upward—

The size was all wrong.

An Yi swallowed hard.

He’d grabbed the wrong person.