Three days.
Neither long nor short.
For those in secluded cultivation, three days were no more than the flick of a finger. But for someone accustomed to licking blood from a blade's edge and fighting without end, three days of doing nothing were simply torture.
Lu Chen reclined in a bamboo chair in the courtyard of Clear Moon Pavilion, watching the clouds drift slowly across the horizon. For some reason, he felt a little dazed.
He could no longer remember when he had last done nothing at all—when he had simply sat quietly like this.
Green Ridge Town?
Back then, he had still been a corpse handler, dealing with the dead every day. His life had been poor, but it had been peaceful enough. Then he had transmigrated, activated the system, slain demons and eliminated evil, and fought his way to where he was today. It seemed he had never stopped since.
Capital City, Qingzhou, the Abyssal Ruins, the Northern Frontier, the Azure Dragon Secret Realm...
One event after another flashed through his mind like scenes on a revolving lantern.
"What are you thinking about?"
Yun Qingyue's voice came from behind him.
Lu Chen came back to himself but did not turn around. "The past."
Yun Qingyue walked over, sat in the bamboo chair beside him, and handed him a bowl of medicinal soup.
"Drink it."
Lu Chen accepted the bowl and drained it in one gulp.
For the past few days, he had taken three bowls of medicine every day, one each in the morning, noon, and evening. Yun Qingyue brewed them herself, brought them herself, and watched him drink every last drop.
The medicinal soup entered his stomach, and a warm current once more surged through his body. He could clearly feel his exhausted meridians recovering bit by