Twenty-seven frames

Qiao Ranran really had never thought about it. At least, when she saved someone, she never thought that much. The moment she realized she could save them, she acted. Now, though, she occasionally gave it a little more thought. At the very least, if the person had anything to do with Wen Ziheng and his companions, she would consider it carefully.

"Junior Brother Pei, could we discuss this later? If we delay any longer, that person might be beyond saving."

Pei Ling gave a humorless chuckle, his gaze falling on Qiao Ranran's other hand, which was tightly gripping her own sash. His other hand was still holding her sash too. For a moment, he seriously considered whether to throw this woman away, throw her away, or throw her away.

Then he pivoted and flew toward the valley with Qiao Ranran in tow.

Qiao Ranran's delighted voice immediately rang out. "Thank you, Junior Brother Pei!"

Pei Ling: Hah.

The situation in the valley was much better than Qiao Ranran had imagined. At least, much of the heavy stench of blood came from demon beast blood. There was indeed someone lying in a pool of blood, but he was clearly conscious. The instant they appeared, he even had the strength to grip the damaged sword beside him.

It looked as though he probably did not need her to save him.

Qiao Ranran pursed her lips, feeling as if a consultation fee that had been within her grasp was slipping away before her eyes.

Pei Ling was amused too. "Is this the result you wanted?"

Qiao Ranran secretly rolled her eyes. Taking advantage of Pei Ling's diverted attention, she "struggled mightily" to reclaim her sash. She had decided: once she got back, she would replace it with a leather one, a metal one, or simply a spirit artifact!

"Fellow Daoist, do you need treatment?" Then she added in all seriousness, "My fees are very reasonable."

Once those words came out, Pei Ling found them entirely unsurprising. He was already getting used to them. The other man's alert, guarded expression, however, abruptly froze. He seemed to have anticipated all sorts of possibilities, just not that Qiao Ranran would say something like that.

Having just fought a demon beast, he was severely injured and separated from his companions. He had exhausted all his medicinal pills in the battle, and not a trace of spiritual power remained in his body. He had been thinking that if these two intended to kill him and steal his treasures, he would probably have no strength to resist.

Although neither had a high cultivation level—one was at Foundation Establishment and the other at Qi Refining—they were both uninjured, so dealing with him would not be difficult. As for the fact that neither looked sinister or wicked, he was not naïve enough to assume that someone who looked good was good, or that someone who looked innocent truly was innocent.

Qiao Ranran's words actually put him somewhat at ease, though he could not rule out the possibility that she was probing him, testing the extent of his injuries and whatever trump cards he had left.

"Thank you, Fellow Daoist, but I fear there is nothing you can do about my injuries." His face was covered in blood, yet the hand holding his sword did not tremble in the slightest. His gaze was clear and upright, his features refined. "The smell of blood is strong here. It is not safe to linger. You had best leave."

Qiao Ranran was puzzled. "If you know it isn't safe to stay here, why haven't you left?"

The man said nothing and briefly closed his eyes. In the fleeting glimpse of his gaze, there was both struggle and resignation.

Qiao Ranran understood. He was already too badly injured to move, yet he remained so wary of a stranger like her, and had even kindly advised her to leave. Though she could not be certain of his motives, he was a good person.

Good people never lived long in stories like this.

"Your breathing is unsteady, and your meridians are in disarray. Not only do you have no spiritual power left, you can't even absorb spiritual qi to replenish it and regulate your condition." By the time she reached this point, Qiao Ranran was standing before him. "So never mind fighting back—you don't even have the strength to leave." She glanced at his sword hand. His fingers were long and slender, but stiff. "Honestly, if you have that much strength left, you should use it to get farther away, not hold a sword and pretend you're strong."

Unable to suppress his amusement, the man wanted to press a hand to his forehead in helplessness. Unfortunately, he really could not move at all, and could only smile self-deprecatingly. "Everything you said is true, miss, but I am very clear on the state of my own body. With your cultivation level, there is no need for you to risk yourself here. You should leave."

He had switched from calling her "Fellow Daoist" to "miss." Seemingly aware that he was powerless to resist, his guarded expression gradually faded.

Qiao Ranran tilted her head to examine the fabric of his clothes. "Judging by your attire, you don't look short of money, so remember to pay my consultation fee afterward."

"Miss..."

"You really do talk too much." Holding a silver needle between her fingertips, Qiao Ranran shot him a distinctly disdainful glance. "I'm not even worried about you refusing to pay. What are you still afraid of?"

Obviously, he feared that Qiao Ranran had ulterior motives, or something else—but before he could think further, the silver needles in her hand had already landed on his body. He had seen medicine cultivators perform acupuncture before. Acupuncture techniques and spell arts were their basic skills, but he had never seen a Qi Refining Stage cultivator wield needles so swiftly. She did not hesitate in the slightest with any needle she placed, and her hands were as steady as those of a mighty cultivator who had trained painstakingly for years.

His gaze involuntarily settled on her face. She was a very pretty young girl, petite and slender, dressed in a simple, practical green outfit without any unnecessary ornaments. Her features still held a youthful immaturity. Only the calm composure in her eyes and brows revealed a bearing that belied her age.

As he felt his disrupted meridians gradually settle under her needles, and the pain caused by their disorder ease little by little, he knew he had misjudged her this time.

Pei Ling, who had been standing to one side with his arms folded, watching Qiao Ranran do as she pleased, gave a cold snort. The man, whose gaze had already become fixed on Qiao Ranran, finally remembered that there was someone else beside them and immediately felt rather embarrassed.

Qiao Ranran worked quickly. Within moments, she had completed the preliminary treatment and swiftly retrieved every silver needle. "You should be able to feel your spiritual power circulating now. As long as you have that slender chance of survival, you'll be able to regulate your condition and recover slowly, given a little time. So hurry up and go!"

Qiao Ranran was very anxious. She had a feeling that if they stayed here any longer, they might truly run into serious trouble.

The stench of blood here was simply too strong. She had no idea what kind of demon beast this man had killed, but he must have killed it. Otherwise, a demon beast in its death throes would never have given him the chance to cling to life. Even if he had killed it, however, the heavy smell of blood would draw other demon beasts. Worse still, it might draw others of its kind, which would pursue him to the death.

Rankings

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Transmigration into a book

Sweet romance

Transmigration and rebirth romance

Big Black loves eating fish

Dual rebirth

Xianxia fiction