Ah, that's right! After all, at the end of the day, a master is not obligated to help his disciple quench his fire.1 Even if he was the one who accidentally rubbed against it and stoked the fire, it's all the same!!!
Shen Qingqiu pushed Luo Binghe up abruptly, placed a palm on his chest, and sent in a few waves of spiritual energy. Although it didn't amount to much, it was all he could afford to give. Everything else can be ignored! Ignored!
Exiting the stone sarcophagus and following Dream Demon's directions, he dragged and pulled Luo Binghe all the way to "The East End." After a while, the walls of the tomb gradually grew damp, the soles of his feet became slippery, and the moss was thicker. It was not easy to keep steady. Shen Qingqiu slowed down to avoid slipping.
As they continued, weeds and wildflowers bloomed among the moss as the tomb gradually widened. Trees of varied heights rose on both sides. Not only was the ground slippery, but the gnarled and twisted old tree roots also threatened to trip them from time to time. Insects flew by, and the chirping calls of birds could be heard. A blue-and-black zenith suddenly rose up high above them. Inlaid with flashing white crystals, it resembled a curtain of a starlit night.
Despite the illusion of being in a jungle, they have not left the Holy Mausoleum but only arrived at one of the special crypts within it.
Each crypt in the Holy Mausoleum was designed by the nobles of the past generations for their own use. Its designs were strange and varied. Similar to an apartment, the tenants move in bringing only what they have, and decorate the rest of the house in accordance to their preferences. Experts in the field of mechanisms unduly favor the Qimen Dunjia ancient divination tradition.2 Demon beast tamers prefer to use guardian beasts. Herbalists cultivate poisonous flowers and grasses.
The owner of this tomb was obviously the last type. The trees and flowers here seemed ordinary, but Shen Qingqiu was determined not to touch them. He removed his robe and covered both their heads. Pressing his hand against Luo Binghe's waist, he took a cautious step forward.
The grass and leaves rustled.
Suddenly, a piercing sound accompanied by a flash of cold white light shattered the stillness of the air.
Shen Qingqiu's hand snapped down sharply, the Xiu Ya sword at his waist flew out and slammed in a cross to block the sudden attack. The force of strength from both sides did not relent.
This obstacle had not been resolved before a second flash of white light struck. This time, it directly stabbed at Luo Binghe's throat. The Xiu Ya sword was blocking the first sword and couldn't be recalled; neither could he throw Luo Binghe aside. If he fell amongst those treacherous flowers and plants, he would be done for!
He raised his arm and seized the edge of the sword with his bare hand.
The blade cut deeply into his palm, but he could still hold it firmly, and it did not advance another half inch. Blood did not drip—it poured out. It spilled over Shen Qingqiu's clothes and dyed the grass on the ground bright red.
He finally realized how painful it must have been when Luo Binghe had previously grabbed at his blade.
Shen Qingqiu's eyes reddened. He jerked his head and his pupils shrank.
I never imagined that the "strays"3 Tianlang-Jun spoke of was actually referring to these two people.
Two people emerged from within the shadows of the gnarled old trees.
To be precise, only one person stepped out; the other one was pushed on a wheelchair-like contraption.
The one standing was a beautiful woman with a slender waist and full bosom. The one being wheeled forward was wrapped in a rough felt blanket from the neck down, but the exposed head was not unfamiliar to Shen Qingqiu.
