His broad Dou Qi Wings swept through the air, tearing apart the tranquil currents in the sky. Fierce wind buffeted Nalan Yanran's face, tossing her dark hair and clearing her head a little.
"Could you put your hand somewhere else?" Nalan Yanran asked, blushing as she looked at Xiao Yan.
At that moment, Xiao Yan was flying with an arm around her slender waist, their bodies almost pressed together. It was her first time being so close to a man, and she felt deeply uncomfortable.
Of course, her former fiancé's wandering hand did not help matters.
"What did you say? The wind's too loud. I can't hear you!" Xiao Yan called out.
Looking at that handsome, infuriating face, Nalan Yanran suddenly wanted to bite him to death.
She channeled Dou Qi into her throat and shouted with all her strength, "Could you stop putting your hand on my butt?!"
"What did you say? I can't hear you!" Xiao Yan shouted back.
Nalan Yanran no longer wanted to speak. She had suffered too many mental shocks lately to care where Xiao Yan put his hand anymore.
Behind them, Yun Yun was also flying at full speed. Yun Potian was the founding ancestor of the Misty Cloud Sect. If they could save him, there was no telling how much stronger the sect would become.
But upon hearing Nalan Yanran's shout, Yun Yun's pretty face darkened almost imperceptibly.
Soon, the three landed on the mountain peak where Nalan Yanran usually cultivated.
"It's that boulder." Nalan Yanran pointed at the enormous stone where she often sat in meditation.
"This stone has weathered years of wind and sun, yet for some reason, the energy here is always a little denser than elsewhere. Normally, only outstanding disciples of the Misty Cloud Sect are allowed to