The black mist tightened, then unraveled. Where it had stood now walked a man.
He was tall, with features cut like jade, blood-red eyes that gleamed with cold light.
His hair was gathered by a single brooch of carved jade, his robes regal, threads of fire dancing across the embroidery as though alive.
His presence was oppressive, yet refined.
Beautiful, yes, but dangerous in every line of his form.
With ease, he lifted Jiu Loubing into his arms. His hands were steady, his gaze calm, but his aura weighed down like a mountain.
"Your name?" he asked. His voice was smooth but carried command.
The woman across from him did not flinch. Her eyes were sharp, her stance unyielding. "Su Moyan.." she answered simply, her tone even.
He studied her, then nodded once. "Ye Feng."
He let the name hang, his gaze sweeping over her with quiet appraisal. Strength radiated from her. She was no ordinary mortal, nor a fragile cultivator barely holding onto life. She was tempered steel, her aura bold and confident.
"Strong.." he said at last, a faint curl tugging at his lips. "But not stronger than me."
Su Moyan's eyes flashed, but she did not look away. "And yet you stand here accepting my aid.." she replied coolly. "If you want my help, then speak plainly. Do not waste time with posturing."
For the first time, Ye Feng's smirk widened. Arrogance had always been his nature, but her refusal to bow amused him.
"Very well.." he said. He adjusted the unconscious girl in his arms, his tone sharpening. "Take us to a place where she can rest. Heal her. Her body is being torn apart and rebuilt. Without proper care, she will not last."
Su Moyan gave a single nod, her movements swift and sure. "Follow me, then." She turned without hesitation, leading them down the hidden paths of the mountain.
As they walked, Ye Feng lowered his gaze briefly to the girl in his arms. His expression softened in a way it never would for another.
For fifteen years he had been forced to watch in silence as she suffered, bound by the oath he swore to her parents. But now the bindings were gone. Now he could protect her.
Loubing, he thought as he held her closer.
From this moment, no one will harm you again.
The path wound through thick forest, the air heavy with damp moss and faint traces of spiritual energy. Ye Feng carried Loubing with effortless grace, his scarlet eyes sharp as he followed behind Su Moyan.
After a while, his gaze narrowed. Beyond the trees lay nothing but unbroken rock and shadows, the mountain slope ending in a sheer wall. His brow furrowed. "You're leading us to a dead end?"
Su Moyan's lips curved faintly, but she didn't break stride. Her fingers brushed across the air, pressing against nothing and yet something shimmered.
A pulse rippled outward, like a stone dropped into water. The empty mountainside quivered, its illusion peeling away.
"This manor is hidden by arrays.." Moyan said. "Ordinary eyes cannot see it. Cultivators weaker than me will also see nothing but a cliff."
Ye Feng's gaze sharpened. His jaw tightened. He had not seen it until she revealed it.
He was certain his cultivation far surpassed hers.
A faint crease appeared between his brows, but his expression soon returned to its usual calm. He stepped through the gate without a word.
Moyan glanced at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, but she said nothing.
The manor inside was quiet and clean. The air was thick with spiritual energy, several times richer than the forest outside. A massive tree stood in the courtyard. Its trunk was wide enough that three men could not circle it with their arms, and its branches glowed faintly. Wisps of Qi drifted down from its leaves like mist.
Ye Feng glanced at it. "A spiritual tree."
Moyan gave a small nod. "It nourishes the manor and strengthens the arrays. No one can force their way in while it stands. It's a spirit nuturing tree, I've managed to grow it into a grade three.."
Such a tree could mend wounds, soothe the spirit, and even help stabilize a chaotic foundation. Cultivators would kill for even a single leaf, yet here it grew in quiet seclusion, its roots hidden within the arrays Moyan had placed.
Ye Feng glanced at the tree, it would be a nice place for a nap.
Moyan stopped before a door and pushed it open. Inside was a simple room. The bed was wide, draped with plain white linen. A faint fragrance of medicinal herbs lingered in the air.
"Put her here," Moyan said.
Ye Feng lowered Jiu Loubing gently onto the bed. When Moyan turned to close the door, he remained where he stood. His arms folded across his chest.
"I will stay," he said.
Moyan turned her head, her expression calm. "Stay? What for? Do you plan to watch while I undress her and clean her wounds? Are you a pervert?"
Ye Feng's face darkened. Heat rose unbidden to his ears. "That is not what I meant," he said coldly. "If you harm her, I will tear you apart."
"Mm." Moyan waved a hand at him, her tone dismissive. "Yes, yes. Tear me apart. Out the door."
For a moment, neither moved. The air between them grew heavy. But Ye Feng finally stepped out into the corridor, his eyes glinting with warning.
Moyan closed the door behind him.
The room grew silent. She turned back to Loubing, whose face was ashen, her robes torn and soaked with blood. Moyan's hand hovered briefly above her chest before she began to strip away the ruined cloth. Her expression remained calm, but her movements were careful.
Ye Feng stepped outside again, back into the courtyard. The air around the manor shimmered faintly. He pressed his palm against the invisible wall. Spiritual energy rippled, reacting sluggishly.
A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. He bent down, running his finger along the etched sigils at the base of the array. The faint, dried scent of blood reached his nose.
Chicken blood.
Ye Feng's lips curved slightly, though there was no humor in it. "So that's why," he murmured to himself. "Fox-repelling wards. How quaint."
Straightening, he brushed his fingers clean, his expression cold again. The faint bruise to his pride settled.
After all, it wasn't that he couldn't see the manor. It was the blood that had obscured his vision.
At least, that was what he told himself.