Zhuyunluo was not a village, but a somewhat primeval forest.
The group was not waiting in a warm room, either. Instead, they had lit a small, faintly flickering flame beneath a towering tree.
To top-tier cultivators, this flame was naturally a glaring vulnerability, but Cui Hao had insisted on lighting a fire.
Winter Melon had wanted to try a few tricks on this oblivious Cui Hao, but half a Watermelon had tactfully vetoed the idea and agreed to Cui Hao's proposal to light a fire, asking only that he keep the flames small.
Not knowing what Watermelon was thinking, Winter Melon had endured it for the sake of one of her own.
Winter Melon cast a sidelong glance at Cui Hao, who was holding out his hands to the fire with a look of utter contentment.
She truly could not understand how anyone could be so detestable.
Winter Melon had only one thought-If I'd known he would be the one saving me, dying would have been more comfortable.
This man could always aim a vicious punch straight at the vulnerable spots in people's hearts, without the slightest regard for what anyone else thought.
But never mind. If Lin Luoyu did not return within two days, Cui Hao's good days would come to an end.
She would no longer care whether he was a descendant of some great sect. Things having come to this, she had little patience left.
Night fell.
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from a short distance away.
The Soft-Bone Sword appeared in Winter Melon's hand. She looked warily toward the sound and cautiously extended her divine sense. A moment later, she silently put the Soft-Bone Sword away-Cui Hao really was lucky. He had managed to escape death even now.
Lin Luoyu's figure approached from the distance, her