The Sect Master did not know what Lu Ye had encountered over the past half year in the Spirit Stream Battlefield, but when Shui Yuan had dressed his wounds earlier, he had seen it all. A boy of sixteen or seventeen, his body was covered in crisscrossing old and new scars, several of them grievously fatal.
One could only imagine the hardships he had endured in the Spirit Stream Battlefield.
Letting an innocent, ignorant boy suffer such hardships was his dereliction of duty, the Crimson Blood Sect's responsibility. That was why, after bringing Lu Ye back to the Main Sect, he had charged into Yun Province.
He wanted to ensure that nothing as unfair as the Golden Light Peak Battle would ever happen again. He wanted those old immortals of Myriad Demon Ridge to know that the Crimson Blood Sect still had him as its shield. So long as he had not fallen, none of its disciples could be lightly humiliated!
For that, he had not hesitated to expose the cultivation he had concealed for decades.
Inside the room, the Sect Master gently patted Lu Ye's shoulder and said with a smile, "It wasn't easy for you to find your way back on your own. Rest well and heal first."
Lu Ye respectfully answered, "Yes!"
He was filled with curiosity. Why did the Sect Master look as though he had been hammered senseless, with his bruised and swollen face and blood qi all over him?
He suddenly understood why Second Senior Sister had brought over another bed.
"Will you come over yourself, or should I help you over?" Shui Yuan suddenly asked.
The Sect Master straightened up and smiled with the air of drifting clouds and gentle wind. "It's only a minor injury. There's no need to make such a