Shen Zhen's words did not move Gu An. Painting other people's battles was far too likely to offend them, and he was not lacking high-grade herbs now. Unless Shen Zhen could produce seventh-grade herbs to tempt him.
Shen Zhen came from the Daotian Sect of the Great Yu Dynasty—an unimaginably distant place. He did not even know how long it would take for a message to travel there.
Gu An said, "The whole city is in chaos. How could I be in the mood to paint, Miss Shen? We should find somewhere to hide, in case..."
A sudden boom cut Gu An off. The entire inn shook violently as billowing dust swept in through the windows, burying the two of them.
Shen Zhen wrapped an arm around Gu An's waist and dashed out of the inn, arriving in its rear courtyard.
Gu An tried to pull free from her grasp, but she held him tightly. Her gaze was grave as she stared behind the inn and whispered, "Don't move."
Gu An was helpless.
You still want to protect a Great Cultivator at the ninth level of the Mahayana Realm?
Shen Zhen frowned and drew a long flute from her Storage Bag with her left hand. Following her gaze, he saw a figure fly out of the dust on the other side of the inn.
Gu An remembered him. He was an Inner Sect disciple who had comprehended the sword at the Heaven-Mending Platform, named Zhang Hong. Gu An saw him every time he went to the Heaven-Mending Platform. He had not expected him to be an Epiphyllum Sect spy.
Zhang Hong wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. When he turned and spotted Gu An and Shen Zhen, he immediately swung his sword at them.
A streak of