Qiao Ranran reached out and caught Pei Ling's fingers. When she saw him move to shake her off, she immediately wrapped both hands around his and apologized softly, "I'm sorry..."
Yan Qingsui could no longer stand watching. Bristling, he said, "Pei Ling, why are you snapping at Qiao Qiao?! Qiao Qiao asked Venerable Muhua for help for your sake. What gives you the right to snap at her?! Aren't you afraid you'll hurt her feelings?"
Pei Ling turned to look at Yan Qingsui, a smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth. Yet both his gaze and his voice were thick with killing intent. "Say that again?"
Provoked by that killing intent, the Profound Abyss Sword in Yan Qingsui's hand nearly broke free of his restraint. But he understood what Pei Ling meant. Seeing that Pei Ling could not bear any more provocation, and with Qiao Ranran constantly signaling to him with her eyes, Yan Qingsui barely managed to swallow his words.
"Pei Ling..." Qiao Ranran called softly. Feeling the aura around him teetering on the brink of a rampage, she looked at him with nothing but calm concern. "I won't abandon you, and I haven't bowed my head to anyone!"
Her gentle voice flowed like a murmuring stream, slowly seeping into Pei Ling's divine sense and temporarily easing the sudden, explosive pain.
The momentary softness in Pei Ling's eyes alerted Qiao Ranran that something was wrong. Her hands slipped swiftly from his fingers to his pulse point. Feeling that astonishingly savage aura, she cried out in alarm, "Your head hurts again?"
Why had it flared up so suddenly? After Pei Ling tore his divine soul apart and transferred most of the toxins out, his condition had clearly been very stable. As his cultivation increased, he could fully suppress