The search for Master Bai Yue did not go smoothly. From noon until night, Ji Muqing failed to find a single useful clue. It was entirely possible they had gone due south while looking north and headed in the wrong direction.
That night, they set up a campfire.
Ji Muqing sat by the fire, her face clouded with worry, afraid that her master had been harmed by the Devil Race.
Xiang Yuan was not anxious in the least. She had been missing for so long that worrying was useless. Either someone was already dead, or someone was already dead—alive or dead, those were the only outcomes. Given the master's temperament, the odds of bloodshed were greater.
He picked up a branch and stirred the fire. If they could not find the master, they could look for the nearby Devil Race instead. A change in approach might bring them a clue.
Xiang Yuan pondered how to find the master. With a stunning beauty on Ji Muqing's level standing beside him, he could not muster even the slightest doubi impulse.
There was no other reason—this master and disciple truly dared!
If it had been Chan'er, Xiang Yuan would have dared to pat his thigh and tell the demoness to sit astride the whip. But Ji Muqing was different. She was poisoned by Forget-Soul Powder. If he dared to pat his thigh, she might actually come over and sit down in order to keep his secret.
A lesson learned at the cost of blood—he had been forced into becoming a gentleman!
"Devil, look over there. That is smoke from the Devil Race," Ji Muqing said, pointing southeast.
What devil? You're supposed to be a firearms enthusiast now—call me Master!
Xiang Yuan grumbled inwardly. Ji Muqing's acting was mediocre, and her delivery was painfully