Today was the fifteenth, and Qinghe still insisted on cultivating on the fifteenth of every month when the moonlight was purest and the Spiritual Energy was strongest. This time, teleporting both the ship and the people had drained a significant amount of her Spiritual Power.
Dawn broke, and the land was shrouded in a hazy veil of silvery gray. The pale turquoise sky still held a few scattered remnants of stars.
Qinghe exhaled a breath of stale air, changing from a cross-legged to a stretched-out position. She hadn't slept all night, but her spirit was even more vigorous, her body refreshed and comfortable—a feeling even better than having a full night's sleep.
