Jing Wen's gaze grew deep as he sank briefly into thought, then said, "As I see it, your foremost concerns now amount to just two things."
He paused slightly, his eyes fixed on Zhang Ling'er. "The first is your own safety;
the second is cultivation."
At his words, a trace of complicated emotion flashed through Zhang Ling'er's previously dull eyes. A bitter smile then rose on her face, filled with helplessness and self-mockery, as though it spoke of all the bitterness piled up in her heart over the years.
"Young master, you may not know this, but I am only a mortal, born without a spiritual root. Cultivation is nothing more than an unattainable dream to me."
She shook her head gently, her voice steeped in helplessness. As a mortal born into a cultivation family, that gulf and the resentment it bred followed her like a shadow, tormenting her heart.
Yet Jing Wen turned a deaf ear to Zhang Ling'er's response and continued, "First, regarding your safety, what I can do is send you somewhere relatively safe and make some arrangements for you.
But from then on, you will have to face whatever comes by yourself."
Zhang Ling'er's heart sank at this. Already filled with confusion and fear about her future, she took his words as nothing more than an attempt to brush her off. He would never truly help her.
That thought was like a bitter seed, swiftly taking root and sprouting in her heart, deepening her sorrow.
A further measure of despair entered her already dim, lifeless eyes.
Yet Jing Wen continued without the slightest pause, speaking at an unhurried pace. "As for revenge, in ten years at the earliest, twenty at the latest, I will certainly take you back and avenge you.
If any of your direct