Yun Xiu nodded and softly said, “Thank you.”
Yan Zhen smiled faintly. “The campfire’s going, and I’ve got water boiling in the medicine cauldron, keeping it warm with hot coals. If you get thirsty, just step out and drink from the bamboo cup I left nearby… I’ll head out to gather today’s firewood and food. You two rest well in the tent—no fighting, okay?”
Although the two women’s relationship didn’t seem quite as strained as the script described, Yan Zhen worried they might be putting on an act. If they started bickering the moment he left, that would spell trouble.
Once he saw them both nod obediently, Yan Zhen relaxed and ventured outside to forage.
Rain was still falling, and he quickly turned into a drowned rat. He hurriedly circulated his mystic power to fend off the chill.
Roughly an hour later, Yan Zhen slipped through the waterfall and dashed into the cave, dripping wet from head to toe. In his hands, he carried a bundle of firewood, a fistful of mushrooms, and a dressed wild rabbit.
Mystic beasts in the Demonic Dragon Mountain Range all carried some degree of baleful aura. Eating them could affect the mind, and those with weak divine souls would succumb immediately.
Ordinary wild beasts, however, didn’t draw in mystic power from heaven and earth, so they lacked that aura and could be safely consumed.
That said, with mystic beasts so abundant in the Demonic Dragon Mountain Range, regular wild animals were exceedingly rare.
Yan Zhen had simply gotten lucky. He’d spotted a mystic beast ambling past with a dead wild rabbit in its mouth and struck decisively with Thunder Cut—severing the beast’s head, extracting its beast core, and claiming its snack for himself.
“I’m back! We’re having roast rabbit and mushroom soup tonight.”
The two women stepped out from the tent. Seeing Yan Zhen utterly soaked, his clothes plastered to his skin, they wore different expressions.
Yun Xiu felt a twinge of heartache, her mind conjuring images of him dashing through the rain and clashing fiercely with mystic beasts. Jiu Youyue’s lovely eyes gleamed as she envisioned him drenched in sweat, radiating potent masculine allure.
“Wild beasts are incredibly scarce in the Demonic Dragon Mountain Range, yet you still managed to snag a rabbit. Impressive.”
“Yeah, Little Zhen Zhen, how’d you catch it?”
In their previous life, they’d always eaten fish.
Of course, Yan Zhen had put effort into his cooking back then too—cycling through fish soup, grilled fish, and sashimi… all to flaunt his passable culinary skills before the girl he liked.
Smiling, Yan Zhen recounted the tale as he dried the firewood over the flames, his hands never idle.
“So that’s how it happened. Little Zhen Zhen, you’re so lucky.”
“You’re not hurt, are you? Taking on a Tier 3 mystic beast isn’t easy with your cultivation.”
“I’m fine. I’ve got a Mystic artifact.”
Yan Zhen brandished his Thunder Cut. The Cursed Blade from Divine Dream Palace had become a mere utility knife in his grip.
“This tachi can slice right through a Mystic Master’s Mystic Force Armor. Tier 3 mystic beasts don’t know Mystic techniques yet—they just rely on raw physical power, and they’re not as fast as me. A few chops, and it’s done.”
Naturally, Extreme Flame Greatsword would’ve been quicker, but it guzzled mystic power.
Gripping Thunder Cut, Yan Zhen flowed into a demonstration of Xia Ji Eight Chops. The blade whistled through the air with ferocious momentum.
Jiu Youyue watched with sparkling eyes, her heart swelling with delight the longer she observed. Yun Xiu nodded appreciatively, her gaze toward him softening even further.
Once finished, Yan Zhen set to chopping vegetables with Thunder Cut, casually asking, “Yun Xiu, did you change your dressing?”
“I did.”
Her expression turned awkward, though.
“As good as not changing it at all,” Jiu Youyue said with a chuckle, hand over her mouth. “Senior Sister’s bust is simply too generous. She couldn’t see the wound looking down, fumbled around forever without success, and just wrapped it any old way.”
Yan Zhen blinked. Yun Xiu’s wound was along her ribs—and given her ample curves, it was precisely in her line-of-sight blind spot.
“Sorry, I didn’t think of that.”
Yun Xiu flushed with a mix of shyness and irritation, inwardly wishing she could stitch the demoness’s mouth shut. Not only had she refused to help with the dressing, now she was spilling Yun Xiu’s embarrassing blunder to Yan Zhen.
“It’s mostly healed anyway. No big deal if I skip changing it.”
“How can you say that? Your wound won’t close that fast—why didn’t you let Jiu Youyue help you?”
Jiu Youyue put on an innocent air. “I’m all thumbs and elbows—afraid I’d accidentally hurt Senior Sister. You should do it for her instead, Little Zhen Zhen.”
Yan Zhen glanced at Yun Xiu, seeking her consent.
Blushing, she bowed her head—clearly in agreement.
“Then… let’s go into the tent.”
“Okay.”
Jiu Youyue stifled a snicker at their awkward exchange but didn’t follow them in. She eyed the mushrooms on the stone table, then slowly crouched down. Mimicking Yan Zhen’s earlier technique, she used her nails to clean the roots and slice them before adding them to the medicine cauldron to simmer.
Even wrapped in a blanket, the enchanting beauty preparing food carried a unique allure.
Inside the tent, Yun Xiu lay supine with the blanket draped over her legs, her upper body exposed. One arm modestly covered her impressive bosom as she closed her eyes, adopting a vulnerable posture ripe for the taking.
Beneath her breasts, the bandage was wrapped sloppily—amateur work at best.
Yan Zhen unwound it to find the medicine applied unevenly. He frowned slightly.
The three claw marks had improved markedly since yesterday, but immersion in water had reopened the scabs. Her crude bandaging only made matters worse; now fresh blood seeped from the wounds.
“You say it’s fine, and look—it’s bleeding again.”
Yun Xiu mumbled, at a loss for words.
Yan Zhen fetched another healing pill, melting it into ointment with Gold-Silver Fire. He applied it meticulously to her wounds, spread it evenly, rebound the cloth, and finished with a neat little bow.
“There. One more change tomorrow, and it should be fully healed.”
After all, it was merely an external injury. With her Mystic Lord powerhouse regeneration, bolstered by Yan Zhen’s Tier 2 healing pill, it should’ve closed within a day.
The claw marks bore the berserk aura of a Tier 5 mystic beast, though, which slowed the process.
Fortunately, it wasn’t from an innate Mystic technique—otherwise, lingering mystic power would’ve aggravated the wounds beyond Yan Zhen’s current means to purge.
In the script, the gravely injured Yun Xiu and Jiu Youyue had needed three days of bedrest before stirring, five days for improvement, seven to circulate their cultivation on their own, and ten for full recovery.
“I’ll step out now.”
“Wait!”
“What is it?”
“My skirt’s in tatters—beyond saving—and I can’t open my storage ring for the moment. Could you lend me some clothes? This blanket just feels awkward.”
“I’ve got a couple sets of robes, but they might not fit you well.”
Yan Zhen produced two outfits from his storage ring. The tops and pants alike ran small—he was only sixteen, hardly the burly sort—whereas Yun Xiu and Jiu Youyue were tall, graceful mature beauties.
“That outer robe should work, at least.”
“Oh—try it on. If it fits, keep it. I have extras.”
Yan Zhen left the outer robe behind and exited the tent. There he found Jiu Youyue attempting to cook in his stead.
As she’d claimed, she was clumsy with it—half the time spent failing to skewer the rabbit meat on twigs, despite her sword mastery.
Yan Zhen couldn’t help chuckling. “Let me handle it.”
