By this time, the sky had darkened, with a clear moon and sparse stars.
Riding the moonlight, Chen Li flew on his journey, pocketing a sense of fortunate survival and fervor, as well as a hint of caution. By the time he reached the mountain gate, it was nearly midnight, yet he felt no trace of fatigue.
Back in his cave dwelling, another round of bustle unfolded.
Having dealt with his wives and concubines,
Chen Li excused himself to cultivate for a while and first went to the basement to empty the bones of the second-order demon beasts from his storage bag. Then he headed to the quiet room to carefully organize his loot from the trip.
The flying sword of Ke Xian was dark red in color, cold and heavy to the touch. It was intricately inscribed with numerous talismanic arrays, and an invisible sharpness seemed to linger around the blade. Mere proximity felt like facing a sharp edge, causing the skin to sting painfully.
