A master of her generation, Sikong Lan’s cultivation was no longer stable.
In the current cultivation world, cultivation is divided into five major stages: Qi Refining, Foundation Building, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, and Transformation. Each stage is further divided into four grades: Lower, Middle, Upper, and Great Perfection, with each grade containing ten levels. Cultivation is like building a mountain from grains of sand; every step is arduous.
Since the passing of the five great divine beasts, the spiritual energy in the cultivation world has become thin, making ascension a mere legend. Nowadays, those known as great masters, sect leaders, and ancestors have only reached the Nascent Soul stage. Sikong Lan is the only one at the Transformation stage, unparalleled under heaven.
However, half a month ago, Sikong Lan discovered a major problem with her body: her cultivation level would suddenly drop without warning from the Middle-grade Transformation stage to the Lower-grade Qi Refining stage. The duration of each anomaly varied—sometimes as short as an incense stick’s time, sometimes half a day.
A duel between masters is decided in an instant; a single moment of weakness is enough to be fatal. This matter had to be kept strictly secret to avoid causing shock in the cultivation world and attracting enemies to her doorstep.
The conflict between Sikong Lan and Ling Yi arose from this very issue.
Ling Yi is a nine-tailed fox who has already cultivated eight tails. His heart’s blood is indeed, as rumored, a panacea that can neutralize a hundred poisons and cure a hundred illnesses. Upon learning of his Dao companion’s condition, he naturally deemed it a life-threatening crisis. Thus, he chose without hesitation to use his heart’s blood as medicine.
Unfortunately, Sikong Lan discovered his intent and stopped him with swift reflexes. The divine dagger did not pierce his chest, but it accidentally cut the hand he had reached out to try again.
Sikong Lan’s voice was steady and cold. “Two hundred years ago, I cut your chains in that cage. It wasn’t so you could find another way to hurt yourself. I do not want to see you choose to harm yourself, especially not for me. If you cannot understand how I wish for you to love yourself, then we should both take some time to cool down.”
For the next three days, she traveled the surrounding areas, scouring medical texts. While she refused to use the spirit fox’s heart’s blood, the problem had to be solved quickly. This matter could absolutely not be known by the outside world, so Sikong Lan decided to find the ingredients for a cure herself.
She had formulated a temporary prescription. It required five ingredients: Azure Dragon Vine, Lord of the Mountain Bone, Tortoise-Crane Glue, Phoenix-Feather Sunflower, and Kirin-Blood Dragon’s Blood, with Orchid Butterfly Blood as the medicinal catalyst.
The Qunxian Sect’s next mission, before the Great Sect Competition, was to obtain these five ingredients and the catalyst for Sikong Lan.
Jiang Zuilan, worried about her Master’s condition, asked cautiously, “Does the Medicine Sect not have them?” If the Medicine Sect had them, they could obtain them quickly, reducing the time spent refining medicine and the risks associated with her fluctuating cultivation.
“They are all unique treasures; the Medicine Sect does not have them. Besides,” a cold sneer appeared on Sikong Lan’s usually indifferent face; she had an old feud with the Medicine Sect. “I will never seek medicine from the Medicine Sect in this life.”
On the other side of the desert, the sand shifted like a semi-solid river. A caravan, like a river cutting through the desert, stretched long and moved swiftly across its center. Tall camels enchanted with immortal spells carried countless luxury crates bound with gold thread, surrounded by a group of figures in green cloaks.
Helan Tan was leading a camel, the golden bells jingling as they moved. He was the young master of the Medicine Sect, and this batch of goods was precious and critical, so he chose to escort it personally. He wore light blue and white inner robes with a green cloak, the edge of which was embroidered with silver patterns—the Medicine Sect’s motif of intertwining Five Poisons and Tianshan Snow Lotuses.
His face was as fair as jade, with phoenix eyes that held a faint hint of light blue. The bridge of his nose was high, and his lips were habitually pursed in a thin, straight line. Wearing a pair of blue jade crescent moon earrings, he possessed a calm and arrogant demeanor.
Suddenly, he heard a commotion ahead. In a scuffle, a young woman tied up a disciple and flew away on a sword.
“What’s going on?” Helan Tan looked up, but he could only see two retreating figures in the distance, their faces unclear. He caught a glimpse of a pale yellow dress against the horizon.
“Young Master,” a companion replied, cradling his sword and looking up, using a bit of magic to see clearly. “It seems a woman has kidnapped a man.”
“Oh,” Helan Tan looked down, finding it uninteresting and not worth his energy.
“There’s some insider info,” the companion whispered, leaning in. “Rumor has it that the second disciple of the Qunxian Sect is a young succubus. They say she loves to snatch handsome and outstanding immortal disciples for dual cultivation. Should we stop her? I’d bet anything that woman is the succubus.” He wanted to ask if Helan Tan wanted to do a favor and save the man, or perhaps just watch the show.
Helan Tan glanced across the yellow sands from a distance, his expression disdainful. He then retracted his gaze and looked straight ahead, focusing only on the road. He casually reached up and pulled his hood over his head, the broad green-and-silver cloak hiding his face. A spark of indifference flickered in his light blue eyes as he gave a refined smile. “Regardless, it has nothing to do with me.”
Helan Tan checked into an inn, washed up, and lay down in bed. Within half a day, he heard a commotion again. It seemed the disciple who had gone missing earlier that day had been returned exactly as he was, dropped right by the inn window.
“Junior Brother Lin, what on earth happened to you?” A sect on a training mission was staying there, and many people were gathered to watch the excitement.
Junior Brother Lin’s face was flushed red, and he didn’t say a word. Anything he said now would be wrong. It was embarrassing if he had lost his purity, and somewhat embarrassing if he hadn’t.
“Maybe she thought the person she snatched wasn’t handsome enough, so she didn’t take his purity and sent him back as he was,” another voice piped up, clearly enjoying the drama.
“A flower-thief snatching people for dual cultivation is that picky?”
“Hahaha, Junior Brother Lin, give us the details! Was she beautiful?”
Helan Tan cast a silence barrier. It was incredibly noisy and utterly boring. He blew out the lamp.
When Helan Tan woke up again, the sensation beneath him was different. Instead of a wooden bed at an inn, he felt coarse, cold sand and stone. He heard singing—a voice that was cheerful and crisp, yet not a single note was in tune.
Helan Tan frowned and opened his eyes, only to find them covered by a black silk cloth. He reached out to remove it, but heard the clinking of iron chains; his hands were shackled to the stone wall of a cave. He had been kidnapped.
“Oh, you’re awake?”
A sweet and charming voice came from someone who had apparently turned around and was now squatting in front of him. A fragrance wafted toward him—the soft, cloyingly sweet scent of ripe apricots mixed with a hint of floral perfume. Helan Tan remained still, trying to discern if there were any sedatives in the scent. He was on guard, suspecting the kidnapper had other motives.
“What do you want?” he asked. “Money or my life?”
“How could you say that?” the woman replied, sounding surprised. “Why do you all ask the same thing? I’m here for your body, of course.”
With a rustling sound, she began to untie him, deftly removing the black cloth wrapped around his eyes. “Sorry about that. The daylight was too bright, and I thought the black cloth might help you sleep longer.”
With the cloth removed, she surprisingly wasn’t afraid of him seeing her face. Hmph. How foolish, Helan Tan sneered inwardly, a deeper layer of disgust rising. He wasn’t sure if this female thief was fearless or just incredibly stupid. He was determined to see her face and exact his revenge.
As the black cloth slid down, the shameless thief actually stepped closer to him, blew a gentle breath, and touched his face with a soft finger, brushing away a fallen eyelash. Her scent was gentle. Whatever dark female ghost this is, she’s clearly lived long enough.
Helan Tan frowned and closed his eyes under the sudden stimulus of light, then slowly opened them. Light streamed into the cave from outside, and his vision gradually cleared from a watery blur. As the darkness receded, he saw the girl squatting before him.
The first ray of the rising sun shone into the cave, illuminating her like a blooming orchid in the rain. The girl before him had shimmering almond eyes, lips as red as vermilion, and a face as radiant as peaches and plums. She was smiling sweetly.
Helan Tan was stunned; his heart rate suddenly accelerated, and his mind felt like it had exploded.
“You’re awake.” Song Yin was squatting, making her slightly shorter than him. She rested her elbows on her knees and cradled her chin in her palms as she looked at him. The sun was at the perfect angle, making her hair look soft and luminous. Her almond eyes were bright, her eyelashes thick and long, and the corners of her mouth curved up in a playful arc. Her other hand was idly twirling the black silk, its shadow fluttering.
“Hello. Will you dual cultivate with me?” Song Yin got straight to the point.
Helan Tan turned his head away in slight embarrassment. He quickly steadied his breathing, turned back, and stared at her expressionlessly. “Who are you?”
“I’m a cat demon,” Song Yin feigned innocence, her bright eyes staring at him without blinking, looking quite well-behaved. She added, “A black cat demon.”
Liar, Helan Tan judged. He glanced at Song Yin’s wrist; he recognized the succubus mark on the inside of her wrist at a single glance. Helan Tan was a rare genius from the Medicine Sect. He could identify any creature that could be used for medicine. A succubus.
So, his heart had skipped a beat just now because of her charm. Helan Tan felt a slight sense of relief. His uncle, a high-ranking member of the Medicine Sect, had spent his life trying to refine a divine medicine to resist charm, but he had never had a succubus to practice on and passed away in regret. Helan Tan thought his achievements must surpass his uncle’s.
A succubus was standing before him. Clearly, she was indeed the second disciple of the Qunxian Sect. It was said that the second disciple was a succubus and the third was a mermaid. A succubus’s tail and a mermaid’s scales were all treasures—rare, top-quality materials for refining divine pills. He was willing to play along with her for a while.
“Why did you kidnap me?” Helan Tan asked, softening his voice.
Song Yin suddenly leaned in, half-kneeling on his lap, and cupped Helan Tan’s face as if entranced. “Your eyes are so beautiful—they’re blue.”
Song Yin had been kidnapping handsome boys everywhere for years, wanting to take their primordial essence. She would kidnap them but not “eat” them; she’d take one look, find them unsatisfactory, and send them back. Perhaps it was because her Master’s Dao companion was so beautiful that he set a standard for her; she wanted to find the best-looking one, and the previous ones hadn’t been good enough.
But the man she met this time was too beautiful. She felt he was the second most handsome man in the world, after her Master’s Husband.
Helan Tan’s mother was from the Orchid Butterfly tribe. His lineage was a secret; he was of mixed blood and had been used as a “medical test subject” in his early years. Years of testing various medicines in his childhood had activated his Orchid Butterfly bloodline, making his pupils a very light blue.
He remained silent. Song Yin pinched his chin and straightened her back; because she was kneeling on him, she was half a head taller. She looked down, her eyes locked onto his, her tone growing more excited. “You are very beautiful. I’ve seen many beautiful people, but none are as good-looking as you. Such beautiful eyes, such a light blue—like glass gems. I want to gouge your eyes out. I want your eyes to only ever be able to see me.”
Helan Tan was surprised and looked at Song Yin again. She wasn’t tall, her face was small, her skin was fair and delicate, and she was curvaceous and charming. She wore a pale yellow dress with a pouch at her waist—a small, white rabbit-shaped pouch. It used to be a rabbit Song Yin raised; she loved it so much that after it died, she removed the bones and flesh and coated the fur with a fragrant preservative so it wouldn’t fade or rot. She made it into a beautiful pouch to accompany her forever.
“You’re a cat demon?” Helan Tan repeated.
“Yes,” Song Yin nodded firmly, then opened her mouth slightly and showed him her teeth with her finger. “Look at my teeth. See? My canines are sharp. That’s proof I’m a cat demon.”
Helan Tan said nothing, choosing not to reveal that he already knew her true identity.
“What is your cultivation level? Let me see.” Song Yin jumped off him but didn’t look at him, running to the depths of the cave instead.
“Golden Core,” Helan Tan said. The weight on him suddenly vanished, his arms felt empty, and the fragrant, warm air departed, replaced by a cold draft from the cave entrance. He shook his arms; the iron chain on his right hand was tight and he couldn’t break free. He craned his neck and shouted toward the depths of the cave, “Upper-grade Golden Core.”
Song Yin ignored him, searching for something amidst a clinking of jars in the shadows before returning with an armful of bottles and jars. She took out a talisman and slapped it onto Helan Tan. He frowned and was about to break free when she quickly removed it to see the result. “Ah, Golden Core! Perfect! That will help my cultivation.”
She was at the Lower-grade Golden Core stage and had been stuck at a bottleneck for a long time. Having a partner with a similar or preferably higher cultivation level was best for dual cultivation. Helan Tan knew she didn’t believe him; the talisman was to verify his true cultivation level.
He frowned slightly. “You don’t know who I am?”
Helan—the surname of the Medicine Sect’s successors. Helan Tan was famous among the young talents.
Song Yin opened another jar of ointment and replied politely, “Mhm, my name is Song Miao. What’s your name?”
What a perfunctory fake name, Helan Tan chuckled inwardly. It seemed she really didn’t recognize him. He looked up at her, his voice gentle and slightly seductive. “My name is Situ Tan.”
“Situ Tan,” Song Yin repeated. “You have a compound surname, just like my elder.” Song Yin gave a token compliment; both her Master’s Husband and Situ Tan had compound surnames. Perhaps compound surnames made it easier to produce handsome men.
Helan Tan calculated in his mind: Qunxian Sect… the Master should be Sikong Lan, and her Dao companion was reportedly named Ling Yi. The elder with a compound surname she mentioned must be Sikong Lan. In fact, this was a common misconception in the cultivation world. Sikong Lan’s surname was actually Si; it wasn’t a compound surname. Ling Yi’s real name was Linghu Yi, which was a compound surname. However, there was no need to explain this to the world, and the Qunxian Sect didn’t bother to correct it.
Song Yin’s hands grew restless again, pinching his face and gently rubbing it with her thumb. Helan Tan could smell the fragrance from her palm—an elegant floral scent mixed with a cloying sweetness, like ripe apricots scattered among flower petals. His Adam’s apple bobbed uncomfortably.
Song Yin’s gaze wasn’t on his neck, but on his earlobe. Her hand moved up, her finger touching his earlobe and sliding over the long crescent moon earring. She stared intently at the shimmering moon. “So beautiful. Just like your eyes.”
Helan Tan lowered his eyes. In his field of vision was only her pale yellow silk sleeve and, where the cuff opened, a section of her fair, plump forearm, like a crisp and smooth new lotus root in a pond. But that flash of white soon departed.
Song Yin was looking for jars again. She found a flat one, pulled out his other unchained arm, and applied a dab of white ointment to his wrist, rubbing it in circles. Helan Tan looked at his wrist disdainfully. He had identified the medicine just by the smell; it was only used to check if his primordial essence was still intact. The ointment would change color: white meant pure, blue meant the primordial essence was broken, and red meant complicated relationships. It was just a silly, playful medicine, nothing compared to the divine medicine he wanted to research.
“You could have just asked me,” Helan Tan said, not noticing his ears had reddened slightly. The warmth from his wrist spread; her finger was still rubbing, itchy and warm, like a falling petal.
“Just asking won’t work, because they don’t tell the truth. I have to use this.” Song Yin looked down while applying the medicine and sighed. “They aren’t honest; many lie to me. Some are so filthy I’m disgusted they’ve dirtied my territory.”
She finished applying the ointment and waited for a moment. Her eyes remained fixed on his wrist, her brow furrowing slightly. The ointment changed color. It was still white. His primordial essence was intact.
Song Yin breathed a long sigh of relief, her expression brightening with visible joy. “Fantastic!” She threw herself directly into Helan Tan’s arms. Her yellow dress and his light blue robes tangled together. Song Yin cupped his face with both hands. “Then I’m going to kiss you!”
“You—” His words were cut off.
Song Yin had already closed her eyes and leaned in for a kiss. She missed the first time, only bumping into the corner of his mouth. So, she opened her eyes again and, as if studying a cultivation technique, carefully identified the position of his lips before leaning in and pressing hers against them clumsily.
Their lips met—a collision like two flowers swaying and touching in a gentle breeze. Tender petals met in a dazed, tentative contact, lingering for a long time. Once she had fully traced the shape of his lips and learned their softness and thickness, as well as the shape and position of his philtrum, she began to poke her tongue out, tentatively testing like a cat. Feeling his resistance, she gave his chin a sharp pinch in anger, leaving a nail mark.
Prompted by this light scratch, Helan Tan opened his mouth clumsily, allowing her entry. Her tongue tip explored the unknown territory slowly. It was sharp yet very soft. She was a quick learner, and after a few moments, she knew exactly where her goal was. She teased him, shamelessly blocking his lips and refusing to let her prey escape.
Her kiss grew more forceful, urgent and proactive. She slowly pressed her body against his, eventually pinning him against the cave wall and kissing him fiercely. While kissing him, she murmured incessantly, “You smell so good. Your eyes are so beautiful. I like you so much.”
Helan Tan’s heart raced, but he comforted himself: She’s just a little succubus. These are all just her tricks.
They kissed passionately for a long time until Song Yin grew tired. She leaned against his chest, panting lightly, clutching his collar and rubbing against his neck. She didn’t notice that after a brief hesitation, Helan Tan’s hand had found her waist, occasionally stroking her long hair.
After catching her breath, Song Yin tried again, pinching his chin once more to continue the kiss. The light in the cave shifted, the shadow of the orchid outside the entrance moving. They kissed for an unknown amount of time—perhaps over an hour. As the shadows shortened, Song Yin finally opened her eyes and pulled away from the passionate kiss.
She stood up, straightened her slightly rumpled yellow silk dress, tightened her belt, and looked down at the man by the wall. “It’s late. I’ll send you home.”
A conflict had raged in her mind: should she continue to indulge herself and “eat” him further, or stop now to avoid affecting her sect? Ultimately, she decided to send him back. She gave the handsome young man one last lingering, reluctant look.
Helan Tan’s lips were still red, and his eyes were hazy with passion. He was momentarily stunned and looked up at her in shock. “You’re letting me go just like that?”
“Mhm.” Song Yin nodded, assuming he was relieved to have escaped. She buckled her belt and giggled. “Master said I have to learn to control my inner impulses. Usually, I don’t even kiss the people who come to the cave, but you smell too good— I really couldn’t help myself.”
She checked the sky; it was still quite early. If she sent him away now, she could still find time to practice her cultivation. After checking the time, she went back to her jars.
Helan Tan kept his head down, his expression unreadable. She took a couple of ointments for nourishing external injuries—medicines made by Third Sister. She leaned in to read the instructions on the jar, deciphering Third Sister’s legendary, illegible “healer’s scribble” while instructing him: “Take this medicine back. My junior sister refined it; it’s good stuff. Apply it to your wrists; it’ll remove the marks from the chains without leaving a scar.”
As she spoke, she set down the medicine and moved to unlock the chains binding Helan Tan. Helan Tan hid the gloom in his eyes and glanced discreetly at the chain in front of her embroidered shoes.
Song Yin took the key to open the lock. Perhaps her chains were too long, or perhaps she accidentally stepped on one. When Helan Tan subtly jerked the chain, she was suddenly tripped. By some “coincidence,” she fell right into his arms, and by some “coincidence,” her lips met his.
Song Yin was stunned. The sensation and warmth on her lips were so familiar that her damned succubus nature took over. She lay on his chest without moving, and after a split second of hesitation, she immediately pressed in to kiss him again.
Surprisingly, the back of her head was held by Helan Tan. Though it was a complete accident that she had tripped, the posture made it look as though he had caught her and was kissing her.
The moment she kissed him, Helan Tan responded with his tongue—even entangling hers. Song Yin lay on top of him, the chains only half-unlocked. She leaned fully against his chest, her tongue held in his mouth as they kissed deeply, again and again.
She thought she shouldn’t break her word; she had said she’d let him go, so she should. But such a beautiful person was already in her arms—if she didn’t keep kissing him, people would think she was incapable. She couldn’t disgrace her dignity as a succubus.
Song Yin kissed more boldly and recklessly, her hand reaching into his clothes and pulling at his blue belt until it came undone. Then, things spiraled out of control.
“Sorry, I… I can’t quite help myself.” Song Yin straddled Helan Tan, her face flushed and her breathing completely erratic. She had never lost her composure like this. She was a “good” succubus. For the past few years, she had been diligently cultivating at the Qunxian Sect according to human ways. Even though she had been kidnapping handsome men everywhere for the past two years, she believed the cultivation techniques and insights she had learned were enough to suppress her nature and that she wouldn’t do anything too excessive.
Yet at this moment and in this place, there was only one voice screaming in her mind and heart: Eat him! Eat him! Her succubus nature had finally been drawn out.
Her yellow dress had come open at some point, and her belt was caught in Helan Tan’s hand. He had already been pushed down by Song Yin, and his light blue eyes held only her figure as she mounted him. Song Yin had no practical experience, but she had an uncontrollable instinct to possess her prey, to devour her prey.
It hurt a little. Perhaps hunting always involved pain and danger, and perhaps the gains in cultivation were inseparable from pain. She didn’t know how other succubi consumed their prey, but perhaps possession would bring pleasure.
Helan Tan tried to help her. His waist was narrow and firm. Setting aside the visual beauty that Song Yin was so obsessed with, she actually overlooked the sense of power it contained. But clearly, for this extremely possessive succubus’s first hunt, she wanted to take absolute control.
Slap.
Song Yin swung her hand and delivered a crisp slap. Helan Tan, a red mark on his face, arched an eyebrow in surprise, but the hazy mist in his eyes only grew more intense. She bit her lip, her almond eyes shimmering with moisture. “I’ll do it myself. You’re not allowed to move.”
After a while, Song Yin pushed him again, complaining angrily, “Why is it still throbbing!”
Helan Tan: “…That’s a normal bodily phenomenon.”
“I don’t care.” Song Yin threw her arms around his neck and kissed he deeply. “You have to listen to me. Submit to me completely.”
The light in the cave shifted from sunrise to sunset, the orchids darkening in the twilight. In the dim light and shadows, the fluttering birds finally returned to the forest, resting on the branches. Song Yin lay on Helan Tan’s shoulder, her expression hazy and satisfied. A succubus should indeed feast. Her first meal was not only visually satisfying but had fed her to the point of being engorged.
Her body felt slightly feverish after the dual cultivation, especially in one particular place. Song Yin gave Helan Tan’s cheek a light nibble and kissed his beautiful eyes. Then, she grasped his wrist, her fingers intertwining with his as she pressed them against her lower abdomen.
“Can you feel it? Your primordial essence… it’s all here with me now.”
“Master.”
Early in the morning, just as Sikong Lan stepped out of her room, Jiang Zuilan was waiting at the door to report, looking a bit absent-minded. Ling Yi, almost simultaneously, pushed open the door next door and handed over tea and snacks. The plate contained exquisite, freshly made pastries brought from a distant town—white flaky crust with red date filling—not the coarse offerings of the inn. The tea was her favorite Pale Lotus Jade Tea, at just the right temperature.
Sikong Lan turned her head away. “I don’t eat things given by an ex.”
Ling Yi looked helplessly at Jiang Zuilan. Jiang Zuilan took the plate from him and handed it to Sikong Lan. “This is a disciple’s filial offering to Master.”
Sikong Lan turned back and took a piece of pastry. Before she could even bring it to her mouth, she studied Third Sister’s expression and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Jiang Zuilan took a deep breath and reported, “Second Sister kidnapped someone and took them to a cave.”
“Oh,” Sikong Lan said dismissively, taking a small bite of the pastry. “Doesn’t she always kidnap people? She kidnaps them but doesn’t ‘eat’ them, sending them back every time.”
Jiang Zuilan’s face remained calm, but her voice trembled slightly. “She didn’t send him back this time. She ate him.”
Clack. Half a piece of pastry fell to the ground. Sikong Lan lowered her eyes, her gaze moving from the crumbs on the floor back up. “When? Which family’s son?”
Jiang Zuilan studied her Master’s expression. “The eldest young master of the Medicine Sect, Helan Tan.”
Sikong Lan was surprised. “Does she know he’s the young master of the Medicine Sect?”
“She obviously doesn’t.” Their Master had a feud with the Medicine Sect; clearly, Song Yin hadn’t known his identity when she kidnapped him.
As for the timing, Jiang Zuilan closed her eyes. “It has already been two days and two nights.”
The group fell silent once more. Two days and two nights. She had likely “eaten” him quite a few times by now.
Sikong Lan patted Third Sister. “Since things have come to this, let’s go back to the base and rest.”
Tianyun Mountain, Qunxian Sect.
The sect was built on a mountain whose peak had been leveled. It featured white walls, blue lacquer, and glazed tiles, surrounded by clusters of hot springs that filled the air with mist all day. Sky-blue lotuses bloomed, their petals emitting a fluorescent spiritual aura.
Sikong Lan returned to the sect quietly; because her cultivation was flawed, she couldn’t let anyone know her whereabouts. Ling Yi knew she was thinking, “I’m not living in the same room as my ex,” so he had already conscientiously taken a room for himself directly across from hers. However, his clothes and other daily items hadn’t been moved at all.
The fat cat patrolled on Ling Yi’s shoulder with its tail held high, then stretched its front legs and shook its fur. It then jumped down next to a sandpit, pillowed its head on its paws, and went to sleep.
Jiang Zuilan had been looking for clothes to soak in the hot springs. When she saw the Eldest Disciple lying next to the sandpit, she looked at the uneven pit and the two shovels discarded haphazardly nearby. Her brow gradually furrowed.
Jiang Zuilan suddenly realized: “I finally remember what we forgot.”
Their Junior Brother was still buried.