After leaving the courtyard, Chu Qingjian dragged Jiang Yang along as she raced out of Fushu Peak.
On the way, Chu Qingjian looked back and said with a smile:
"Master has so many rules. We can't cut loose on the peak, so let's get farther away and avoid displeasing him."
Jiang Yang could only nod helplessly in agreement.
Chu Qingjian's hand looked slender, yet it clamped around him like an iron vise. Though Jiang Yang could have broken free, he still grumbled inwardly:
Why hold on so tightly? It's not as if I'm going to run away.
The two rode the wind out of the Immortal Peaks and headed south. Chu Qingjian knew the route well, while Jiang Yang seldom ventured out; along the way, he recognized only the Ancient Wisdom Renewal Tower, which he had visited before.
After less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the terrain ahead gradually grew lower, with no lofty peaks rising and falling.
Chu Qingjian stopped above a valley and brought Jiang Yang down.
Spirit vigor was scarce here, and there were no disciples in sight. Wild rice and millet grew in scattered patches among ordinary flowers and weeds. Viewed from above, a few flecks of golden yellow mingled with lush green—a thoroughly unremarkable place.
Chu Qingjian took a few steps forward, looked around, and sighed before saying:
"This is Zhouhui Valley. I often came here to play and clear my head when I was little. Spirit vigor is weak here, and there are no spiritual veins yielding anything, so we won't have to worry about damaging the earth veins when we fight."
Jiang Yang looked around, surprised that such a place existed within the sect, then nodded.
"You've found a fine spot, Senior Sister. It's just right."
Chu