Healing Wounds

"..."

As her words reached his ears, Xu Yuan's hand beneath her slender, long legs tightened slightly, and his gaze sharpened.

She would agree to anything he wanted to do?

Brother Xun had not lied after all—after every great battle, there was always replenishment to be had.

They drifted gently downward, his bloodstained robes and her red sleeves dancing together in the breeze.

He looked at her.

"Oh? Anything?"

"..."

Sheathed her saber and stowed the head in her Sumeru Ring, Li Qingyan hooked an arm around his neck. The watery tenderness between her valiant brows seemed capable of drawing out a glistening thread, while the blood on her lips made her resemble a magnificent flower of the other shore.

"This palace has always kept its word. So what does my esteemed consort wish to do to this palace?"

Xu Yuan unconsciously licked the congealed blood from the corner of his lips. As the faint taste of rust spread across his tongue, he immediately realized something was wrong.

There was a condition attached to that promise.

Once he returned to the realm of Soul Condensation, would he even be able to break through her defenses?

He could not. The gap was too vast; he simply did not have that ability.

A Soul Condensation cultivator could not even break the defenses of a Grandmaster who cultivated qi, much less this chest-bound princess—a martial cultivator turned aberration who followed the path of military formations.

Tch. Even now, that wicked woman was still trying to draw him a pie and KFC him.

As they landed, a soft cloud of snowy dust rose from the surrounding ruins due to the impact.

Amusement flickered in Xu Yuan's eyes as he softly asked, "Can you walk on your own?"

Li Qingyan released the arm around his