When Zhang Tie left the airship, his face was bruised and swollen, a thoroughly miserable sight. Yet he was not particularly dejected; instead, he felt somewhat relieved. Zhang Tie did not know whether he had a masochistic streak, but after Lan Yunxi beat him up, he felt an inexplicable sense of release. What he feared most was Lan Yunxi completely ignoring him. That would have been truly terrible.
When he returned to the war fort, Ximan and the others were startled by Zhang Tie's bedraggled appearance, thinking something had happened. Zhang Tie could not be bothered to explain. He simply told them to get a good rest—they would return to Huaiyuan Prefecture in the Jin-Yun Kingdom with him tomorrow.
"Ah, we're going back to the Jin-Yun Kingdom tomorrow?" Shamir asked in surprise.
"Mm, of course. So get to bed early tonight. We leave before dawn tomorrow!"
"Oh, thank heavens. I thought we were going to stay here and fight the Devil Race."
"You want to stay? I can speak to them and have you remain here."
"Ah, no, no—I was joking!" Shamir hurriedly said with a smile plastered across his face.
Zhang Tie said nothing more and returned to his own cabin to sit in meditation and cultivate.
No matter how dire the situation in the First War Zone was, Zhang Tie had vanished for three years. At a time like this, if he did not go home to take a look, he simply had no heart to risk his life fighting the Devil Race here.
People said that before driving out foreign enemies, one must first settle affairs at home. His own backyard was still on fire. Who knew how worried his father, mother, and elder brother were? He also needed to go back and see how the girls