Jian Dan rolled the bloodied figure over, brushing aside the hair obscuring his face—and blinked in recognition.
"Han Pengfei. Of the Cloud Sea Sect."
His group of three, burdened with the injured Qin Haotian, had trailed her until their spiritual energy depletion slowed them to a crawl. Five days in, they'd lost her entirely.
Then the Spirit-Devouring Rats attacked.
In the chaos, Han Pengfei had tried to shield Qin Haotian—only for the latter to shove him into the rat tide in a desperate bid to save himself.
The rats surged toward Han Pengfei. Fortunately, the life-preserving jade talisman he wore activated in time, shielding him for three precious breaths—just enough for the swarm to lose interest and disperse. The others were not so lucky. In their panic and mistrust, the remaining three turned on each other, and all perished under the onslaught.
Han Pengfei, fleeing blindly from the rats, had stumbled behind the stone ridge where Jian Dan had set up camp. Collapsing at last, he was discovered by Brother Parrot.
Jian Dan had already noticed the sword wound on Han Pengfei's back—a clean stab, clearly delivered by someone from behind. She couldn't help but sigh. "Fool. Who trusts their back to others in unknown lands?"
"Lucky you met me. Consider this my good deed for the day."
She retrieved a Minor Restoration Pill and a Bigu dan from her spatial bracelet, force-feeding both to the unconscious man before dragging him aside. Her stone-quarrying mission resumed.
Brother Parrot fluttered down beside Han Pengfei, acting as both lookout and guardian.
Twelve hours later, Jian Dan had filled a third of her basket with jet-black stones. Her arms were on the verge of collapse, every muscle sore, her palms cracked and bleeding.
"Haven't been this battered since pre-cultivation days." Normally, a cycle of spiritual energy would've mended this. Here? Only time could heal—and time was a luxury she didn't have.
Brother Parrot suddenly squawked, "He's awake."
Han Pengfei opened his eyes to see a rainbow-feathered parrot staring down at him. It took him a moment to recall. "The rogue cultivator's spirit pet."
"If you're alive, get up and work," Jian Dan called out without turning. "My pills aren't free."
Still dazed, Han Pengfei examined his body. His wounds had mostly closed, and his stomach wasn't hollow. Other than his tattered clothes, he was mostly intact.
Standing quickly, he offered Jian Dan a deep, respectful bow.
"Han Pengfei, inner disciple of the Cloud Sea Sect. I owe you my life. If we escape this realm, I'll repay this debt."
"Good. Start now." She tossed him the stone pick. "Help me quarry. Two days left—or we both die."
"...Understood."
Without complaint, he swung into action.
Jian Dan, meanwhile, stretched her stiff limbs in an open patch of dirt. Then she began performing the body-refining movements from her Ice-Skin Jade-Bone Demon Body Art. Even without spiritual or demonic Qi, she refused to slack off—if she couldn't train Qi, she could at least temper her body.
As her limbs moved through each posture, she suddenly noticed something peculiar—streams of energy flowed through her meridians. It wasn't spiritual Qi or demonic Qi, but it reminded her of the inner force martial artists cultivated in mortal sects.
A spark lit in her eyes.
With curiosity piqued, she pushed through another sequence of movements—but this time, the energy flow didn't increase. She frowned in confusion and glanced behind her.
Han Pengfei, arms trembling, struggled to lift the pickaxe. Clearly, he had hit his limit.
Jian Dan didn't press him. She stepped forward, took the pickaxe from his hands, and gestured for him to rest.
"Does the Yunhai Sect have any body-tempering techniques? Fist arts, palm strikes—whatever you've got."
Panting, Han Pengfei massaged his sore arms and hesitated.
"Our sect's techniques… aren't usually taught outside. Would it be…"
"I don't want your sect's secrets," Jian Dan cut in. "I'm suggesting you try training. It might help your recovery. I'm Shan Yunzhu, by the way."
"I—" He was about to ask more, but Jian Dan had already turned back to resume her work.
Still puzzled, Han Pengfei moved to the space Jian Dan had just vacated. He took a steady breath and began practicing Thousand Cloud Palm—a basic Cloud Sea Sect technique available to all disciples. When combined with water-aligned arts, it could unleash devastating force, one of the reasons Yunhai Sect ruled the seas.
As he completed the final palm strike, Han Pengfei felt a pulse of energy move through his veins. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Shh." She pressed a finger to her lips.
Han Pengfei immediately sensed it—several figures creeping toward them through the darkness. He gave a small nod, then quietly retrieved his spiritual sword—recovered earlier by Brother Parrot—and positioned himself on Jian Dan's flank.
A voice snarled:
"You witch! Found yourself an ally?"