The man and woman were startled out of their skins. They had pitched their voices as low as they could, yet Wei Zhao and Leng Leng had caught every word. To have their gossip exposed to their faces sent scalding heat rushing into both their cheeks; with sheepish expressions they scrambled to their feet and fled. WwW.XshuOTXt.CoM

"The wind's fierce out here. Let's hurry off and rent a room—the night's worth a thousand in gold," the man said, fabricating an excuse for himself even as he left.

"Oh, you beast!" The woman spat at him, yet she followed him along all the same.

Only once the pair had gone far off did Leng Leng make a little struggle, pull her hand free of Wei Zhao's, and say, her face flushed, "Don't go getting ideas. I was only covering for you back there—nothing more."

"Ah? Then I really must thank you." Wei Zhao glanced at her, hard put not to laugh. The gulf between the little cold girl's words and her deeds was truly vast. Could she be one of those types whose mouth says no while the body stays perfectly honest?

"N-no need to thank me. By the way, what did they mean by renting a room?" Leng Leng hurried to change the subject.

"Renting a room?" Wei Zhao shrugged. "Going to an inn and taking a room, that's all."

"Why? Are they outsiders too? From their accents they're clearly locals, and locals should all have houses to live in. Why waste money on an inn?" Leng Leng said, thoroughly puzzled.

"That..." Wei Zhao choked on the words, at a loss for how to explain. Say it plainly and he would be branded a scoundrel; he could only stammer, "Maybe there are some things that aren't convenient to do at their homes, so they have to find a place outside. That sort of thing can only be done in a rented room."

"That sort of thing? What sort of thing?" Leng Leng did not catch on at once.

"The sort of thing that can't be done out in public. The sort you have to find a room for and do on the sly. Between a man and a woman, isn't it always just that one thing..." Wei Zhao said with a bitter smile.

"That one thing between a man and a woman?" Leng Leng looked doubtfully at the pair's retreating backs, then remembered the man's parting words—the night's worth a thousand in gold. Understanding dawned at last, and her face went scarlet as she spat, "Lewd!"

"Well, you can't quite put it that way. It takes two to agree to a thing like that, after all. This age isn't like ancient times—people don't guard the bounds between men and women so strictly anymore." Wei Zhao explained with a wry smile. Nowadays practically every couple went to rent a room. By Leng Leng's logic, nine out of ten young people would be shameless and lewd.

"Really? The secular world is so chaotic—they don't even want the most basic sense of propriety, righteousness, honesty and shame." Leng Leng said indignantly. Given her upbringing in the remote martial world of antiquity, such things were simply beyond imagining. This was the difference between their outlooks on life and the world.

"..." Wei Zhao stared at her expression and was struck speechless. If she flew into such righteous fury just because other people rented rooms, then were he ever to propose such a thing himself, wouldn't she beat him to death on the spot?

"What is it? Are you that sort of person too?" Leng Leng frowned at him, then suddenly sidled a step away like a startled fawn, as if afraid her guess had hit the mark.

"No, no. We won't be renting any room, absolutely not. Straight home." Wei Zhao waved his hands hastily.

"That's more like it." Leng Leng nodded. A moment later she realized she had been tricked, and she glared at Wei Zhao, red-faced. "I'm not going to do that sort of thing with you, so stop your wild imaginings!"

"Fine, fine, fine. We won't do it once we're home either. Satisfied?" Wei Zhao could only raise his hands in surrender, sounding for all the world like a creepy old uncle luring a young girl astray.

"You're incorrigible," Leng Leng muttered helplessly. Yet for some reason a faint ripple spread through the depths of her heart, and it had not settled even by the time they walked back to the apartment.

Thinking back on all that had happened that day, she could not help flushing to the ears. Strictly speaking, it was the first time she had ever spent an entire day with a man, and there had even been moments of intimacy she would never once have dared imagine before. Was this what the people of the secular world called a date?

"Are you all right?" Wei Zhao saw her cheeks burning alarmingly and instinctively reached out to check her temperature. He started. "This hot? You've got a fever?"

"N-no. I'm just a little tired. I'm going back first." Startled, Leng Leng fled back to her own room. A fever, indeed—she had simply been dwelling on those things so intently that her face had gone red!

A fine expert of the early Foundation Establishment stage, worn out just from a bit of shopping? Even if her injury excused it, there had been no sign of it before. Hadn't the little cold girl been reluctant to call it a day?

Wei Zhao muttered to himself in bewilderment, then returned to his own room as well. Wooing the little cold girl was a settled matter, but right now restoring his strength was his first priority. He had already wasted an entire day today, and he had to make up the lost progress quickly. Without sufficient strength, even if he uncovered the origins of those Heavenly Dao experts, it would all be in vain.

In the room next door, however, Leng Leng was in turmoil, utterly unable to calm herself for proper cultivation. It was the first time in her life that her mind had been so full of a single person—and a man she had known only a short while, at that. Time and again she tried to cast aside her stray thoughts and focus on healing, but Wei Zhao's face would rise unbidden in her mind, and she could not tear herself free of it. It haunted her, refusing to be dismissed.

"What's wrong with me?" Leng Leng was at a loss. She shook her head hard, gritted her teeth, and simply took a cold bath—only then did she feel somewhat better.

Yet before she could cultivate in peace for even a moment, she gave a muffled groan and slumped sideways to the ground. Only after a long while did she manage to struggle back to her feet, her face drained of all color. After days of healing, her injury had clearly been nearly cured—who would have thought it would relapse again, just as before? It was utterly endless!

After a while, though the injury showed not the slightest sign of improvement, at least it had not worsened beyond saving. A blessing in misfortune—but Leng Leng could find no joy in it.

At first she had assumed it was an ordinary wound. Even if it was somewhat severe, a few doses of medicine, a medicinal bath, and sufficient spiritual qi to replenish herself should carry her through. That was how every injury before had gone, and even when the first relapse came, she had still clung to that hope. Now, though, she had seen the truth of her situation clearly.

This was no ordinary wound at all. She had been gravely wounded by some highly unusual technique aimed at the primordial spirit; at the outset it had merely presented like a normal injury, but the moment it neared recovery, it would relapse. The root of it lay in the primordial spirit—and that was the truly troublesome part. (To be continued.)