A Week Later…
Time flew by like a fleeting shadow.
Su Xiaobai took no direct actions, not because he lacked the opportunity—but because he knew.
He was being watched.
Monitored.
And not just by some random sect lackeys—even Zhao Tianxuan himself didn't trust him completely.
So, Su Xiaobai fed them a show.
He trained.
Very, very hard.
The kind of training that required stamina, precision, and an opponent that could handle his "form" for extended periods.
And that opponent?
Zhu Qing.
_____
Creak… creak… creak…
The wooden bed groaned, a rhythmic song of exhaustion and relentless practice.
Through the open window, the moonlight poured in, illuminating the sweaty battlefield.
A pair of trembling legs rested on broad shoulders.
A pair of fingers clawed at the sheets, tangled in desperation.
And in the center of it all—
Su Xiaobai.
