Page 171

As she asked the question, starlight seemed to fall into her eyes, Bai Fu's fingertips gently brushed across her cheek, causing Qiaoqiao to blush quietly once again.

He leaned down and placed a light kiss on the spot where his fingertips had touched.

The subtle fragrance of plum blossoms enveloped her, like a gentle embrace.

Snow falls, the night is silent.

Unbeknownst to them, their relationship had subtly changed.

But Qiaoqiao soon discovered that Bai Fu's body was weakening day by day.

The Protective Sword Formation had exhausted his true spirit and lifespan. The original spiritual power of a true spirit cultivator cannot be replenished by Spirit Stone; one can only wait for it to recover. However, the reality was that Bai Fu had no time to recover. As soon as he stopped the sword formation, those people would surge in like a tide, take Qiaoqiao away, and make her fill that Divine Pillar.

He can't stop.

These days, the number of cultivators on the outskirts has increased rather than decreased, and their curses have become more and more offensive each day. When Qiaoqiao is in a good mood, she will sit on a large rock on the mountain path and listen to what they are cursing, and occasionally she will express her opinion.

At these times, the sword formation would thoughtfully allow her voice to travel.

The cultivator said, "Immortal Venerable Wanghan is nothing but a coward, hiding in the sword formation. What's the point? Come out and have a go!"

Qiaoqiao: "I'll call him out right now, do you dare to hit him?"

Monk: "..."

They retreated silently for thirty miles.

"The Demon God is wreaking havoc on the mortal realm, Immortal Venerable Wanghan is a coward for not coming out to confront Demon God!"

"One, two, three, four--"

What are you doing?

"Count how many of you there are," Qiaoqiao said, lifting the curtain to look around. "I estimate there are at least seven or eight thousand of you, right? Why aren't you going to deal with the Demon God?"

"So many of you aren't going, why are you only counting on my master to go?"

"We..." The man's tone weakened, then became forceful again, "Of course we'll protect you, afraid you'll run away! You're a goddess reincarnated, why don't you obediently fill the pillar, and instead have the nerve to whimper here!"

"Exactly, what do you mean by refusing to die!"

"The problem is, now that the Four-Direction Divine Pillar have collapsed, and neither heavenly fire has descended nor the sky has collapsed, why must I go and fill in the gaps?" she asked. "Whether the sky will collapse or not is still uncertain! Shouldn't you all be working together to kill the Demon God?"

"Pavilion Master Song said that now is the best time to repair the Divine Pillar. If we wait until the heavenly fire descends, it will be too late!"

"Why do you say he's necessarily right?" Qiaoqiao said. "The Flowing Cloud Divine Lamp and the Divine Sword are both in your hands, so why don't you see your omnipotent Pavilion Master Song going to deal with the Demon God? You're absolutely right, isn't Song Wuya just a coward?"

"You--"

"Alright."

"Pavilion Master Song!"

The crowd parted to make way, and Song Wuya stepped forward, dressed in red, his smile gentle. "Qiaoqiao."

Qiaoqiao: "Yo, Song, you coward."

Song Wuya's face darkened.

The surrounding cultivators were furious and wanted to argue with her, but Song Wuya paused for a moment and said, "One must not disrespect the goddess."

Everyone had no choice but to endure it.

Qiaoqiao scoffed lightly. "Boring."

Song Wuya said, "Qiaoqiao, you're putting up a futile resistance. Bai Fu can't save you."

"I'd like to."

You should face your own mission.

"I have many missions, such as eliminating you on behalf of Heaven, protecting those I want to protect, but definitely not one of them—to die for a bunch of idiots."

"You--"

The Flowing Silver Sword Formation resounded with a hum, and all the cultivators who rushed forward in anger were injured by the sword formation, vomiting blood and collapsing to the ground.

The crowd was stunned and retreated in unison.

On the mountain path, the white-robed immortal walked slowly down the mountain. He glanced at the crowd, and they all stepped back again.

A single glance was enough to instill fear in them.

Bai Fu's strength is too unfathomable.

They have been guarding this place for more than forty days. The light of the sword formation has never stopped for a moment, and those who overestimated themselves and tried to break the formation have died one after another.

He's practically inhumanly strong.

Bai Fu glanced at her indifferently before looking away. "Qiaoqiao, let's go back."

"Um!"

Qiaoqiao jumped up from the big rock and took his hand. "Bai Fu, what are we eating today?"

"Clay pot tofu."

"Yay!"

"..."

The two disappeared down the mountain path as if no one else was around.

Silence fell over the room; no one could utter a word. Even though Qiaoqiao and Bai Fu were the caged beasts, and they were the ones guarding the outside, despite their overwhelming numbers, they felt utterly frustrated every time they clashed.

Song Wuya stared at the two departing figures, his eyes filled with an extremely sinister look.

After this period of practice, Bai Fu's cooking skills improved by leaps and bounds, and his dishes became increasingly delicious.

Although Immortal Venerable Changyun is known as the God of Food in the Cultivation World, Qiaoqiao has never tasted his cooking, but that doesn't stop her from thinking that Bai Fu's dishes are the best!

The two finished their dinner together. After nightfall, Bai Fu let his hair down and sat in the courtyard outside the Falling Plum Hall to admire the moon. He wore a snow-white outer robe, and his black hair fell onto the white silk like a flowing stream.

The moonlight bathed him in a pale silver hue, making him appear ethereal and otherworldly.

He curled his hands and coughed softly twice.

The silence of the night was disturbed.

Upon closer inspection, one could see that his fingertips were white, and his lips were an unnaturally pale color. He resembled a jade puppet gradually losing its color, his true spirit fading away, his lifespan nearing its end.

Hearing footsteps, he suppressed the stinging pain in his throat, which tasted of blood, and his brows furrowed slightly.

"Bai Fu, guess what I brought?"

A pair of hands reached out from behind and encircled his eyes.

He let out a soft chuckle.