Chapter 023: Shall We Live Well Together?

Even with her cultivation sealed, Yan Shu was at least at the late Golden Core stage. Moreover, her spiritual root was a mutated thunder attribute. Even if Heaven’s Will intended punishment and the final heavenly thunder was terrifyingly powerful, it would not take her life.

The real problem was that the Nine-Section Thunder Whip was her life-bound spiritual treasure. Every strike the whip endured was a strike she felt in her very soul.

Now, the whip was pitch-black, long gone was the dragon entwined in lightning; it looked like nothing more than a plain black rope.

Seeing the whip in such a state made clear just how cruelly Yan Shu had been struck.

Lying on the ground, Yan Shu’s lips curled into a bitter smile. After enduring that last bolt of heavenly thunder, she could still find a trace of dark humor in her misery. In hindsight, Heaven’s Will had truly shown her mercy before. Compared to the torment she had just suffered, the earlier tribulations were nothing more than a gentle tickle.

If Heaven’s Will had a face, she could almost picture it sticking out its tongue at her during the earlier strikes: “Heh, just teasing you~”

The thought alone was infuriating.

Xiao Jihan looked down at Yan Shu, gripping the pitch-black, dulled Nine-Section Thunder Whip in his hand. He rose slowly and walked toward her.

Seeing him approach, Yan Shu wanted to ask: “Son, did you feel the love of your dear mother just now?”

Of course, Yan Shu didn’t dare say that aloud—nor did she have the strength to. She tried to lift her head to check the affection meter above his head, but saw only emptiness.

She supposed her injuries must have rendered her golden finger useless for now.

Unable to see it, Yan Shu didn’t trouble herself to read Xiao Jihan’s expression, nor waste energy guessing his thoughts. After all, she had just shielded him from the thunder. As the protagonist, the Heaven’s favored son, surely he wouldn’t want her dead now, would he?

At the very least, not immediately.

A sword pointed straight at her throat.

Yan Shu: …

She had a few choice curses on her lips, unsure whether they should be spoken.

If only she weren’t so weak, Yan Shu would have jumped up and cursed him out! Was he insane? She’d nearly died saving him from the thunder, coughed up blood in the process, and not only did he not appreciate her motherly affection, he wanted to kill her?

What a righteous “favored son” of fate!

Furious, Yan Shu itched to leap up and bash Xiao Jihan’s skull in. She clenched her fists. Enough! If he dared move that sword even half a finger closer, she’d self-destruct on the spot!

She knew she couldn’t possibly take him down with her, but she would never let him claim her spiritual root and turn her into his sustenance, his nourishment.

Yan Shu quietly gathered the last of her spiritual energy.

A cool, hoarse voice reached her ears: “What is it you want from me?”

“Hm?”

Startled, Yan Shu lifted her head to look at him. Though Xiao Jihan’s sword was at her throat, his phoenix eyes showed little true killing intent.

Having seen what he looked like when he truly wanted her dead, Yan Shu could easily tell that, right now, her life was not what he sought.

Her resolve to self-destruct faded.

She looked up and said, “At this point, do you think there’s anything left on you I could possibly want?”

Xiao Jihan’s grip on the sword tightened.

Indeed—what did he have that she might covet? Even he had been startled by the strangeness of his own spiritual root—only after its first evolution did he believe it real.

He himself could scarcely believe it; how could she possibly know?

Besides, she herself possessed a mutated thunder spiritual root, a talent unseen in a thousand years. His four-attribute root, even if refined, would do her no good—in fact, it would only throw hers into chaos.

The sword at her throat withdrew an inch.

Yan Shu knew what to do now.

She offered her warmest, most benevolent smile and, with the gentlest voice she could muster, said, “You have nothing I desire. The mistakes of the past, I have made amends for today. From now on, let’s live our lives in peace—shall we?”

Xiao Jihan’s hand trembled, his sword singing as it cut the air. “We… live in peace?”

“Yes!” Yan Shu nodded enthusiastically. “You truly have nothing left for me to covet. If I must name something, perhaps it’s only you—just you, yourself, that I want…”

“Enough!” Xiao Jihan suddenly barked coldly, cutting her off.

Seeing his face grow cold, Yan Shu quietly swallowed the words “as my disciple.”

His expression shifted between livid and ashen, but now the thunderclouds had scattered, and she could not make out his face clearly. Besides, she was exhausted, having held on by sheer will alone.

Now that the danger had passed, her last breath of energy faded. Her head drooped, and she collapsed onto her side, sprawling on the ground in whatever way was most comfortable.

Alas, today’s bath had been wasted.

Xiao Jihan’s eyes were dark and unfathomable as he looked at her lying bonelessly on the ground.

He admitted to himself: she was beautiful. Usually, she was tall, graceful, with an alluring beauty much like his own, yet her cool eyes and proud brows set her apart—she was like a cold, ethereal immortal.

Now, with blood at her lips, lying in utter disarray, that frosty aura was completely gone. Her skin was like jade, lips like cherry petals, dark hair cascading in messy waves—only beauty and languor remained, enough to steal the soul.

Xiao Jihan was suddenly stunned. Realizing what he was thinking, his face grew even darker.

He sheathed his sword in one swift motion, and with a gesture as if tossing out rubbish, threw the Nine-Section Thunder Whip before Yan Shu, then said coldly, “Shameless!”

Watching his long strides as he walked away, Yan Shu lay on the ground, dumbfounded: ????

What was that about?

How was she shameless?

Had she misheard, or had he misspoken?

It must have been a mistake. She had saved him, was too injured to move, and just wanted to rest on the ground—how was that shameless?

Yan Shu sighed and decided not to dwell on it. Looking at the whip before her, which had lost all its thunder, now just a black rope, she said softly, “You’ve worked hard, old friend. But at least we didn’t come away empty-handed, did we?”

The whip, curled up quietly by her side, twitched slightly.

Yan Shu rolled onto her back, spreading her limbs in a star shape, gazing up at the bright moon.

The world of cultivation was wonderful—spiritual energy filled the air, untainted by pollution, birds sang, flowers bloomed, and even the moon was so enormous it seemed she could reach out and touch it.

Perhaps spending the night here wouldn’t be so bad, though she did wonder if there were any fearsome wild animals lurking nearby. Right now, she was like meat on a chopping block—anyone could come be the knife.

Yan Shu lay quietly for a long time, gradually feeling her strength return. Though still wounded, she was no longer as weak as before.

Mutated spiritual roots were marvelous—she could cultivate without even trying.

The wind stirred, the grass rustled.

That familiar pattern, that familiar sensation.

Looking up to see thunderclouds suddenly gathering above her, Yan Shu jumped to her feet. “No—”

Boom!

Sizzle—!