All The Female Disciples Want To Kill Me

Chapter 422 - 258 Ji Baoer, I’m So Scared. _2

"That... that..."

"The Young Master Yang, who seems to be named Yang Erbao, is said to be a genius capable of cultivating to become an Immortal."

"Then, a few days ago he disappeared. When he was found, he had already breathed his last. He died a terribly tragic death, something like having some kind of organ removed..."

Li Zijun nodded thoughtfully and then offered the young shop assistant a charming smile, "Thank you for that, young lad."

The assistant quickly shook his head, looking embarrassed and apprehensive as he said, "I wouldn’t dare..."

He dared not look her straight in the eye, only stealing glances with his peripheral vision before quickly lowering his head again.

Even though I don’t know the true identity of this beautiful woman who resembles an Immortal, he thought, just by her demeanor, I know she’s definitely not from an ordinary family—perhaps she’s a disciple from one of the great families.

According to what Boss Liu from the caravan had quietly said, one of her hairpins could likely be exchanged for the entire caravan’s goods.

Disciples from the great families had traveled extensively in recent years and seen much of the world. Regardless of their personalities, they all tended to look down on common folk like him, their noses in the air, their expressions impatient. Even if some feigned courtesy, the disdain and contempt in the depths of their eyes were unmistakable.

Yet, with this woman before him, he could feel that her smile was truly genuine, without the slightest pretense.

The other young shop assistants nearby burst into laughter at this sight. One by one, they went up to Shuisheng, slinging their arms around his shoulders.

"Shuisheng, why’s your face as red as a monkey’s butt?"

"Why aren’t you bragging now? HAHAHA."

"Look at how timid you are!"

Shuisheng’s neck turned crimson as he retorted, "I am not..."

Li Zijun turned her gaze back, her body trembling slightly.

For some reason, after this short exchange, an instinctive thought echoed in her mind:

Evil Cultivator.

It’s evil spirits.

Is Xiegu City no longer safe? I wonder where Duo’er and the others have reached...

She took a deep breath, suppressing the myriad thoughts in her heart, not daring to dwell on them.

I hope none of this is because of me, she prayed silently.

...

Su Bei, with a Sword Box on his back, flew alongside Nan Ji.

Once out of Wu City, the surrounding terrain belonged neither to the Dongfeng Ancient Country nor to the South Wind Ancient Country.

Su Bei had already shed his distinctive white shirt embroidered with begonias, changing into a plain, clean outfit. He wore a bamboo hat, concealing his black hair beneath it.

If an ordinary person wore this attire, they might be mistaken for a wandering martial artist. But on Su Bei, it lent an otherworldly quality, less mundane and more ethereal.

So this is what they call ’presence,’ he mused.

The two of them traveled intermittently, as they weren’t sure of the exact path and could only fly generally in the direction of the South Wind Ancient Country. If they encountered any mountains or rivers whose scenery was impressive enough to stir Su Bei’s poetic muse, he would stand with his hands clasped behind his back, a profound expression on his face—a picture of the carefree abandon he had possessed months ago, before taking on a disciple.

Embracing Nan Ji, even the monotonous journey didn’t feel dull. Su Bei held her waist; as the chill from the Supreme Yin Body within her gradually diminished due to her persistent cultivation, her complexion grew increasingly mellow and graceful.

The coldness inherent to her Supreme Yin Body had significantly lessened. Perhaps it was only in Su Bei’s presence that she experienced such a change.

Her days with Su Bei, far from the endless imperial memorials she used to review, allowed her true self to gradually emerge. She no longer needed to hide herself as she had in front of the Eastern Emperor. Now, she was simply his Nan Ji. Occasionally, she would lounge lazily in Su Bei’s arms, as docile as a cat.

Gently caressing her, Nan Ji frowned slightly, gave Su Bei a sideways glance, and shifted her body, "Why is it never enough?"

Holding the peerless beauty, he kissed her cheek and whispered teasingly by her ear, "What is my Ji Baoer thinking about? Did I say that?"

Ji Nanjue’s expression changed instantly. She gave him a light kick, pushing him away, then gazed at the undulating hills in the distance.

The long flight had left Su Bei somewhat fatigued. Though perhaps, he mused, the real reason for this exhaustion isn’t the flight at all...

Night gradually descended; it was dusk.

The two landed and found themselves looking at a stone stele. A few large characters were carved on it. Although eroded by wind and rain and no longer clearly discernible, they could still faintly make out:

"Xiegu City, three hundred li from here."

Su Bei raised an eyebrow and looked at Ji Nanjue beside him, "Xiegu City, is it a city of the South Wind Ancient Country?"

Ji Nanjue chuckled, gently tapping Su Bei’s head with her jade-like hand, "You’re asking me?"

Su Bei adopted a serious expression, looking at Ji Nanjue with deep affection as he said, "Yes, because the Ji Baoer in my heart is simply all-knowing, omniscient..."

If Ji Nanjue had been moved by such words before, she was by now completely immune to his occasional corny declarations of love. She often wondered how his eyes could feign such deep affection so convincingly.

"Xiegu City is the first city after crossing the Cang River," Ji Nanjue explained. "It seems we’re slightly off course."

"Should we change direction?" Su Bei asked.

He walked forward and brushed some weathered soil from the stele, smiling as he said, "We’ve already come this far. Why change direction now?"