Within the Celestial Fragrance Pavilion, red candles burned to exhaustion.
Wan Meng Mozun lay limp amidst the disarray of brocade quilts, snow-white skin marked with reddish patches, still faintly glowing.
Her knees even bore obvious bruises.
Her breath was weak, and even opening her eyes felt laborious.
In her dantian, the True Pill showed slight cracks.
The battle last night consumed more mental energy than a fight to the death in magical combat.
Beside her, Shen Xuan lay bare-chested, seemingly unperturbed, with his eyes closed to rest.
Spiritual light rippled across his body, forming patches like dragon scales.
"You heartless rascal!"
Wan Meng's voice was somewhat hoarse.
She gently leaned her forehead against Shen Xuan's chest, her fingers brushing over his iron-like skin.
Shen Xuan remained silent with eyes shut, allowing her to tease.
"What important intelligence, crucial to me? You can tell me now, right?"
