Inside the wooden cabin, the light was dim, and the air was thick with a cloying sweetness.
The storm had finally passed.
Bai Chenxiang looked like a rag doll that had been taken apart and stitched back together.
She lay limply on the bed, unable to move even a finger.
Every so often, her body would twitch faintly out of control. She was clearly exhausted.
Her consciousness had grown hazy, tear tracks still hanging from the corners of her eyes, while a satisfied smile lingered on her lips.
Qin Chen reached over and pulled up the blanket, covering her snow-white skin, before drawing the little girl, who had collapsed from exhaustion, into his arms.
Bai Chenxiang instinctively nuzzled against Qin Chen's chest, found a comfortable position, and fell into a deep sleep.
Even in her dreams, her body occasionally trembled lightly, as though she were still savoring what she had just experienced.
Qin Chen gently patted her back, his deep gaze fixed on the view beyond the window.
The scene returned to the Dark Night Arena.
The atmosphere in the arena area was explosive, several times crazier than when the audience had watched Soul Masters fight to the death.
Tens of thousands of spectators seemed to have been pumped full of adrenaline. They shouted themselves hoarse, their faces red and their necks bulging.
Wave after wave of sound crashed against the ceiling of the Duel Arena like a tsunami.
Only when the Dance Troupe's song ended and the orchestra fell silent did the restlessness subside somewhat, though the air still brimmed with heavy hormones.
At the center of the arena.
Xue Wu, the center of attention, stood beneath the spotlight, her head still buzzing.
The girls responsible for dancing alongside her crowded around excitedly, their eyes filled with undisguised