But what exactly was she after?
Mo Yuan's gaze darkened, shifting uneasily as he tried to read something from Song Wanníng's expression. He found nothing.
Their pursuers were closing in. Song Wanníng, irritated that dragging him was slowing them down, suddenly scooped him into her arms. In that instant, a faint scent enveloped all his senses.
Mo Yuan froze, mind going blank for a moment.
She... she actually...
But then he remembered that his entire body was broken. Song Wanníng probably had no other choice. His thoughts gradually settled. His field of vision was now filled with black fabric. He couldn't see anything beyond the darkness.
Song Wanníng carried him as she darted through the sky, fleeing at top speed. His body jolted and rocked with every rapid movement.
Yet somehow... a sense of safety slowly rose within him.
It was a feeling he hadn't known for so long. He remembered when he was young, back when his mother was still alive. She used to hold him like this, telling him she would protect him forever. But in the end, she broke that promise.
Mo Yuan's heart turned cold again, resisting Song Wanníng instinctively. And yet, somewhere deep inside, a part of him hoped the warmth would last just a moment longer.
Just a moment.
Conflicting emotions tangled in Mo Yuan's chest. His eyes turned unreadably dark.
Song Wanníng, on the other hand, remained indifferent from beginning to end.
Though she had "rescued" Mo Yuan, she had also deliberately let Mo Yu rough him up. It was her way of letting off steam. As long as he didn't die, anything else was fair game.
Mo Yuan was deeply suspicious, but at the same time, he yearned for someone's care. A strange glint flashed through Song Wanníng's eyes. She felt no guilt for toying with Mo Yuan's heart.
After all, wasn't she the vicious supporting role?
She suddenly smiled, then leapt downward with Mo Yuan in her arms, looking for a place to hide. But the twin Demon Kings caught up once again and intercepted them mid-air.
Infuriated by their earlier escape, both Mo Yun and Mo Yu looked livid.
"Still trying to run? You think you can get away?"
Mockery flashed across Mo Yu's face. He raised his warhammer and struck toward them.
Mo Yun lashed out with her whip, eyes full of fury. Demonic energy surged violently in all directions, warping the very air. Trees and brush within several miles bent and shuddered under the pressure.
Mo Yuan's eyes sharpened. He saw Song Wanníng shoot upward with him in tow, one arm shielding him while the other drew her sword to meet their enemies head-on.
One against two was already a disadvantage, and soon she was stretched thin. Before long, she was injured.
At the same time, Mo Yuan was struck by the residual force of their battle. He coughed up blood again and again, and before long, he was on the verge of collapse.
Song Wanníng fought on, hiding a faint smile.
This time, she put more force into her strikes. After all, if Mo Yuan passed out, how could he watch her "performance"?
With one decisive move, Song Wanníng broke away again, dragging Mo Yuan with her as they fled once more. They stumbled into a treacherous region infamous among the demon race—the Ten Thousand Demons Pit.
The place was riddled with vicious and domineering restrictions. Few ever dared to set foot there.
Mo Yuan wanted to warn her, but it was too late. They were already inside.
Seeing no sign of the Demon Kings for now, Song Wanníng finally let out a quiet breath and set Mo Yuan down inside a cave.
The moment he saw the cave, Mo Yuan's body tensed.
He could never forget that day he woke up in a cave only to discover his manhood had been destroyed. That memory had driven him mad. He had razed the entire cave to the ground and sworn to tear apart the woman who had bought the Tianyuan Yangxin Pill. His pupils contracted, a flash of blood-red crossing his eyes.
But Song Wanníng ignored his reaction. She had chosen this cave on purpose. She hoped Mo Yuan would find it familiar. Suppressing her thoughts, Song Wanníng sat cross-legged with a stern expression, popped a pill into her mouth, and casually stuffed another one into Mo Yuan's.
She didn't speak, simply began treating her wounds.
Mo Yun and Mo Yu's weapons were deadly. Song Wanníng's injuries were severe, her body covered in bloodstained wounds.
Yet her face remained calm, as if she didn't feel pain at all.
Mo Yuan lay on the ground, staring at her. The medicine working through his body had already started mending his injuries, leaving him deeply shaken.
She had fed him an eighth-grade Rejuvenation Pill?
Such a rare and expensive medicine, and she had... actually given it to him?
Mo Yuan's suspicions only deepened.
Yet Song Wanníng remained cold and silent, not even sparing him a glance. She closed her eyes and began cultivating, leaving him alone with his chaotic thoughts.
...
Mo Yuan fell asleep.
When he woke, Song Wanníng had already built a fire and was expertly roasting meat. He stared blankly for a moment, then suddenly tensed. He had actually fallen asleep—completely unguarded—in front of another person?
Mo Yuan clenched his fists, then slowly relaxed them as he sat up. Thanks to the eighth-grade pill, most of his injuries had healed. A flicker of emotion passed through his eyes before he quickly masked it again.
Song Wanníng continued roasting meat on her own. When it was done, she casually handed him a generous chunk.
The fire crackled beside them.
Mo Yuan chewed the fragrant meat in silence, listening to the wind and rain outside, dazed. His eyes settled on the figure before him.
Still cold, distant, untouchable... yet something warm and indescribable had lodged itself in his chest. They were clearly on the run, and yet he felt strangely at ease.
Maybe he was staring too openly, because Song Wanníng looked up and asked flatly, "Why are you looking at me?"
Her slightly raised brow eased some of her icy aloofness, making her already stunning face appear even more vivid and alive.
Mo Yuan swallowed hard. Only now did he realize how beautiful she truly was.
"I... I just wanted to ask. Why did you save me?"
He gripped the meat skewer tightly, a faint hope rising within him. If she hadn't cared, she could have abandoned him long ago. Even the two Demon Lords wouldn't have been able to stop her.
But she had chosen to take him with her.
What could she possibly want from him?
He had nothing left to offer.
Mo Yuan couldn't help mocking himself at the thought.
Song Wanníng looked him in the eyes and answered, unconcerned, "You belong to me. Of course I wouldn't leave you behind to die."
Her tone was calm, yet it carried an undeniable authority, sharp and bold. She had deliberately kept her words vague, leaving room for Mo Yuan's imagination to run wild.
Sure enough, Mo Yuan's eyes trembled. His fingers curled tight, and his ears flushed red. His heart began to pound, a feeling so unfamiliar it made him uneasy, even a little afraid. He knew, logically, that Song Wanníng had only meant he was part of the auction house. But he couldn't help twisting the meaning in his mind.
Then he looked at her again and saw only that cold, unreadable face. It was as if her words had been nothing but a casual joke.
Mo Yuan's heart chilled instantly. The sudden shift made him feel hollow. He lowered his gaze and silently continued eating his roasted meat, face expressionless.
Behind his back, Song Wanníng's lips curled into a faint smile.
The road ahead… was still long.