Shen Ying stayed behind.
Because she was simply too hungry.
The Nine-Death Silkworm Art was not so easy to cultivate. The Murong Brothers had lain there waiting for death, but at least they could drink a little rainwater. Yet she had been lying in a box surrounded by lake water for eighty-nine straight days without a single sip of water.
It was only then that Duan Yun and the Murong Brothers learned that she was not actually a Daoist nun. She wore a Daoist robe simply because she thought the Lotus Daoist Robe looked nice.
"Who says only Daoists can wear Daoist robes?" Shen Ying said, thoroughly justified.
Shen Ying ate urgently and quickly.
When she wanted another helping, the porridge in the pot had already been scraped clean.
"Is there no more?" Shen Ying asked in confusion.
"The food stores at home have been completely eaten up," Duan Yun said.
"Then I'll go buy some. Oh, right, give me some silver. My money pouch got lost ages ago," Shen Ying said frankly.
Duan Yun and the Murong Brothers looked at her face, which was gradually regaining its color, and shook their heads together.
"What do you mean?" Shen Ying asked doubtfully.
"Our money pouches may not have been lost, but they've long been as empty as the rice sack," the Murong Brothers replied.
"No, one of you is from the Murong Family that practices demonic blades, and the other is a young hero who claims he'll uphold justice. You don't even have a single tael of silver?" Shen Ying asked in astonishment.
The Murong Brothers stared blankly at the roof beams and said, "Who says someone from the Murong Family who practices divine blades must have silver? You, the Shen Family's eldest young lady, have empty pockets too."
Shen