“You… How are you here?” Zhao Changhe asked, a mix of shock and joy in his voice. If not for the familiar presence she exuded, he might have thought he was hallucinating.0

Her body bore injuries, hastily and crudely treated. It was evident she had been teetering on the edge of life and death for quite some time, barely having the chance to tend to her wounds, let alone take a bath.0

The beauty of the jianghu was truly a lie… but even so, Zhao Changhe still felt that this rugged image was precisely what made the jianghu most beautiful.0

And for a swordswoman who had spent so long on the brink of death, her cultivation would undoubtedly progress faster than most. Just the precision and ferocity of her earlier strike had made Zhao Changhe’s scalp tingle from a distance—a level that even he, already planning his breakthrough to the Profound Control Realm, found daunting.0

He could not even begin to imagine what kind of life Yue Hongling had led through the past six months since they parted. People often praised her as the most gifted of the younger generation,...0