Chapter Thirty-Six: With Utter Sincerity

Ruined, utterly ruined! My reputation for a lifetime has been destroyed here. Lin Feng was overwhelmed, and, imitating a monk, he quietly recited a few "Amitabha" chants before regaining his composure.

I must find a way out of this; if someone catches me like this, wouldn't they mistake me for a lecher and beat me to death? Glancing around, he slung the woman over his shoulder and ventured deeper into the cave.

The labyrinthine passages twisted and branched within the cavern. To avoid getting lost later, he marked hidden spots with his iron spear. Carrying the woman, he traversed four caverns before finally reaching a dead end.

He gently laid her down and began to contemplate how to save her. The icy spiritual energy within her seemed to have calmed somewhat, likely due to the dantian’s self-regulation, the chaotic power settling into order; yet her body was even colder, her snow-white skin trembling, lips tinged blue.

This shouldn’t be happening. Her strength was so profound that even Senior Brother Mingxin could not fathom it—how could she possibly be frozen like this? Lin Feng reflected on himself: he was not shivering from the cold. For cultivators, the spiritual energy within is an inexhaustible source of vitality; a little circulation could easily ward off harsh environments.

He glanced at his own tattered robe. Though filthy and torn, it mattered little now. He removed it and draped it over the woman, hoping it might help.

If only there were a fire. But deep in this underground cave, not a single branch could be found—how could he light one?

Sighing, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye and was startled. Not only had she not improved after being covered, she seemed even colder, her long lashes quivering, her face pale as death.

Strange… Could it be that her condition was caused by the cold spiritual energy within her? Frowning, Lin Feng pondered. The more he looked, the more he felt something was amiss.

I can't transfer spiritual energy to her—what now? This is maddening. He paced back and forth, uneasy, until a bold, blush-inducing solution came to mind.

Let’s do it! If I save her, I must see it through to the end. Miss, when you wake up, please do not misconstrue my intentions. He whispered softly by her ear, then closed his eyes, removed her tattered clothes, and embraced her tightly from behind, fiercely.

Her icy skin was soft and smooth, her fragrance intoxicating as wild orchids. The strange sensation left Lin Feng momentarily lost, his thoughts restless, his face flushed, but he snapped back to himself: I am saving her!

He closed his eyes and activated his longevity technique, transforming his spiritual energy into heat. Gradually, his body became surrounded by a faint red glow. One burning hot, one icy cold, their nearly unclothed bodies pressed tightly together.

Within him, the residual divine core of the Buddha Flower hummed gently. The red mist emanating from Lin Feng grew denser, and above his head, a hazy shadow began to take shape. At the same time, the cold energy within the woman condensed and seeped out, white light burgeoning. The red glow enveloped the white, continually merging and gathering above their heads. Two shadows formed: one the image of a Red Spider Lily, the other pure white like jade, resembling a snow lotus, though its true nature was unknown.

The two shadows slowly became substantial. The white energy pouring from the woman was drawn by the Spider Lily, refined, and returned to Lin Feng, who transformed it into spiritual energy and released it.

This miraculous scene lasted less than the time it takes a stick of incense to burn before the two shadows dispersed. Lin Feng felt a gentle warmth in his chest and rejoiced, opening his eyes.

Just as he finished, the woman stirred with a soft moan and opened her eyes.

Ah—! Lin Feng was terrified, leaping aside. Before the woman could react, he tossed his tattered robe to her and blurted out, words tumbling like beans from a bamboo tube: Miss, please do not misunderstand. We did nothing. You fainted in the cave, shivering with cold, so I used my cultivation to dispel the chill in your body. As for your clothes, they have nothing to do with me—they were probably shattered by your strange cold energy, and with a slight movement, they disintegrated. I saw nothing!

As he spoke, he kept his eyes tightly shut, face red as a beet, head turned away. He had never encountered such a situation before, and had intended to slip away as soon as he finished saving her.

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He heard the soft rustling of clothing as the woman dressed herself. Contrary to his expectations, she did not erupt in anger or threaten his life. After some time, Lin Feng, hearing no further sound, quietly opened his eyes. She was sitting cross-legged, cultivating, clad not in his tattered robe but in a fresh black garment.

Oh, she has a storage pouch as well! Why didn’t I think of that? That old ghost Yin Zhaozong had one too—why did I bury him with it? Lin Feng quietly observed the girl, not disturbing her.

Her delicate nose, lightly pursed lips, exquisitely carved features—everything was perfectly proportioned, imparting a cool, ethereal beauty. The black robe added a touch of cold, murderous aura; truly a woman impossible to fathom…

Have you stared enough? The woman suddenly opened her eyes, fixing him with a gaze. Lin Feng saw his own dumbfounded reflection in those deep eyes, his panic etched across his face.

Before he could explain, she spoke again: You saved me, so I won’t kill you. But if you dare utter a single word of this for others to hear, I, Leng Linglan, will hunt you to the ends of the heavens and the depths of the underworld and tear you to pieces.

Lin Feng shivered. Though her words seemed calm, they chilled him to the bone. This was a woman who meant every word, never making empty threats.

The atmosphere grew cold. Leng Linglan glanced at him, then withdrew her gaze and stood up. She was actually a bit taller than Lin Feng. You should go now, she said softly.

Oh… Farewell—no, I’ll leave right away. Lin Feng scratched his head, picked up his tattered clothes, embarrassed beyond measure.

He had barely taken a few steps when the woman called out, Wait!

Ah… Lin Feng froze, dread prickling his heart, stiffly turning around. Wh-what is it?

Your name. Leng Linglan’s expression was blank, her gaze indifferent.

Oh, I am Lin Feng, disciple of the Hundred Flowers Sect. He replied carefully.

The black-robed girl nodded slightly, glanced toward the exit, signaling he could leave.

Just then, Feng Yiyuan’s voice echoed from afar, and Lin Feng’s heart tightened. He stole a glance at her and hurried out.

Someone’s coming! It’s Junior Brother Lin! Outside the cave, Feng Yiyuan exclaimed in delight. Of the group, his cultivation was deepest, and he was the first to sense Lin Feng’s presence.

Amitabha! Junior Brother Lin is safe and sound—how fortunate. Seeing Lin Feng emerge from the cave, the monk was visibly pleased.

Chen Yuxi, sulking alone, snorted and stood aside in silence. Lin Feng was engulfed by a mix of emotions and didn’t know what to say, so he simply stood there, awkward.

Feng Yiyuan relaxed and smiled: The Ice Dragon Beast is dealt with, Junior Brother Lin. Let us leave this place and report to the sect master as soon as possible.

Yes, Senior Brother Feng, I defer to your judgment. Lin Feng replied absentmindedly.

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Feng Yiyuan turned to Chen Yuxi: Let’s go, Junior Sister.

Chen Yuxi was momentarily surprised, then smiled brightly: Yes, Senior Brother Feng.

The four crossed the underground platform, where three men sat with eyes closed in meditation. All except Lin Feng ignored them entirely, their gazes passing over without a pause.

Leng Linglan… such a strange person, and to have three subordinates like that. Lin Feng mused silently.

Leaving the Ice Cave, Feng Yiyuan’s group bid farewell to Mingxin, exchanged a few polite words, and parted ways.

A journey of a thousand miles was nothing with sword flight; they soon arrived atop Heaven’s Gate Peak. Looking down at the familiar buildings and mountain paths, Lin Feng felt as if lifetimes had passed.

Suddenly, two senior disciples from the Inner Sect arrived, causing a stir at the Outer Sect gate. Everyone watched from afar, and seeing Lin Feng among them only heightened the surprise.

Junior Brother Lin, given time, we’ll surely meet again. The path of cultivation is arduous and long—do not disappoint us. Feng Yiyuan smiled.

Yes, Senior Brother Feng. Lin Feng managed a smile, then glanced at Senior Sister Chen, who wore a cold, distant expression. He felt helpless and awkward, opened his mouth, but no words came.

Feng Yiyuan gave a couple of awkward laughs, waved to Lin Feng, his immortal sword flashing violet as he soared away. Chen Yuxi said nothing, moving her feet, and followed on golden feathers after him.

Hey, look! That fellow is actually connected to Inner Sect seniors—no wonder everyone was searching the mountain for him the other day.

Ha, these days, what doesn’t rely on connections?

The harsh gossip reached Lin Feng’s ears; he could only smile bitterly to himself. Connections? If I truly had them, would I be in such a situation, struggling for ten years?

He walked alone down the mountain path. Before reaching halfway, he saw a familiar figure rushing toward him in the distance. Looking closely, it was none other than his friend Du Songsong, and behind him, the black steed Wu Zhuai bounded up, tail wagging, tongue lolling long.

That… a bit of romance is coming, heh heh… Best to save it.

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