The sky was just beginning to lighten. The morning breeze woke him up, and Meng Qi stood by the river, feeling as though he had just woken from a beautiful, lingering dream.
He felt no regret or guilt about what had happened in the Grey Stone Great Hall. He could only say that some of his principles mattered more to him than his life, but his life mattered more than many other principles.
He would gladly take a blade for a friend, and when righteous anger seized him, he could risk his life without hesitation. But that didn't mean he was someone who took his own life lightly. When death loomed, he could abandon principles that didn't matter.
If he had a wife or lover, or someone he liked, he would certainly have dragged his weakened body—too feeble to withstand any danger—to some inconspicuous place to hide, waiting for Han Guang and that goofy Elder Brother to leave the Heavenly Court before slowly recovering.
If Gu Xiaosang hadn't wanted it, he wouldn't have forced her. That was a line he wouldn't cross, one more important than his life. He would have chosen to risk a dangerous transfer all the same.
But he had no wife, no lover, and even his secret crush had been cut off, fading away bit by bit. Gu Xiaosang had been the one to bring it up, and he had long remembered Shang Shui Fairy's cultivation method. He knew it truly couldn't harm him and had a great chance of eliminating the backlash. As someone from modern-day Earth, with relatively open-minded views, what was there for him to insist on?
Never mind that Gu Xiaosang was one of the rarest beauties in the world. Even if she'd been a hundred times uglier than she was, Meng