Chương 160: Chapter 49: Aftermath of the Vernal Tryst

Throughout the day, Reyn maintained a grim vigil. To prevent any unforeseen catastrophe, he had shackled Ling You'er's cultivation, sealing her spiritual meridians before sequestering her within the depths of a secluded cavern. He stood as a silent sentinel at the entrance, his jaw clenched as the rhythmic, tremulous whimpers drifted from the dark. Each low moan was a needle to his focus, a psychological siege that tested the iron of his resolve.

The air was thick with a tension he could not strike down with a blade.

"It is finally over," Reyn muttered, rising to his feet. He hesitated at the threshold for a heartbeat, his shadow stretching long into the cave before he finally ventured inside. A few paces in, the scene laid bare before him was one of absolute, disheveled intimacy—a landscape of 'littered spring colors.' Ling You'er lay sprawled limply upon a slab of cold bluestone. Her complexion was a feverish rose, her breathing shallow and ragged, escaping from a pair of full, slightly parted lips.

Her silken hair was a chaotic web across the stone. The front of her robes had been torn open in her delirium, revealing a vast expanse of snow-white, porcelain skin. Beneath a crimson stomacher that strained against her heaving chest, two delicate peaks stood in sharp, provocative relief. The waistband of her skirt had slipped, exposing the smooth, flat plane of her abdomen and a dainty, shallow navel. Beneath the ruined hem of her dress, a slender, pale calf was visible.

One embroidered shoe had been kicked into the shadows, leaving a single bare foot exposed—its crystal-clear toes like tender bamboo shoots, tipped with pink nails that radiated an involuntary, intoxicating allure. The air was heavy with the faint, musky fragrance emanating from her body. Reyn's expression remained as unreadable as chiseled stone. Drawing a sharp, stabilizing breath to lock down his swelling blood, he reached into his storage bag and retrieved a plain green daoist robe.

With a flick of his wrist, the fabric unfurled, draping over her to shroud the chaotic spring of her beauty, veiling the chaos of her beauty. Without a second glance, he turned and strode out of the cave. Only after his silhouette had vanished did Ling You'er's eyes flutter open. Her divine sense swept inward, confirming that her Primordial Yin remained untainted. A deeper flush, born of both shame and profound gratitude, flooded her cheeks as she clutched the robe to her chest.

Reyn stood at the cave entrance, the cool wind doing little to settle his blood. When the sound of light, hesitant footsteps echoed behind him, he cleared his throat and turned with a measured gaze.

"Goddess You'er, are you recovered?" The words felt clumsy the moment they left his lips, and a flash of uncharacteristic awkwardness crossed his face. Ling You'er's face, already crimson, seemed to burn brighter. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the ground, her voice barely a whisper, thin as a mosquito's hum.

"I am... restored. Thank you, Brother Reyn, for your intervention. I am eternally in your debt." Reyn's composure returned, his heart settling into its usual cold rhythm. He waved a hand dismissively.

"There is no need for such formality. We are old acquaintances; I could hardly stand by and watch you fall into such a fate." He paused, his eyes narrowing.

"However, you are still physically depleted. You should not remain in this Trial Realm. It is best if you depart immediately." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Ling You'er bit her lip, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Brother Reyn might not know... my Trial Stone was stolen by those three bastards from the Yin-Yang Joy Sect. Had I still possessed it, I would have shattered it long ago to escape this nightmare." Reyn frowned. With a swift motion, he tapped his storage bag and produced a verdant Trial Stone.

"Take this and leave. This realm is a meat grinder. Even with a stone in hand, a moment's lapse means death. Do not wade further into these muddy waters."

"Thank you, Brother Reyn, but... if you give this to me, how will you return?" Her brow furrowed with genuine concern.

"Do not worry about me. I have my ways," Reyn replied with a faint, enigmatic smile. Between the stone he took from the Yin-Yang trio and the one he looted from the hidden attacker during the spirit gem harvest, he held three in total. Giving one away was a negligible cost for her safety. He offered no further explanation, keeping his cards close to his chest. Ling You'er was sharp; she sensed the depth of his hidden strength and did not press him. She offered a deep, respectful bow.

"Then, You'er thanks Brother Reyn once more." Reyn nodded. He watched as she crushed the stone, her graceful form dissolving into the shimmering light of a teleportation array before vanishing entirely. Once she was gone, Reyn stood in the silence for a moment. Just as he prepared to take flight, his brow twitched. He donned his black stealth robe in a fluid motion. A flash of azure light flickered, and his presence vanished from the world, swallowed by the shadows.

Moments later, several streaks of light tore through the sky from the southeast, moving with desperate speed.

"Fellow Daoist ahead, why persist in this futility? The Mu Jade Sword is ours! Surrender it, shatter your Trial Stone, and we shall let you leave with your life!" A cold shout thundered from the pursuing trio. The lead cultivator, a man named Li, felt a surge of bitter irony. He had entered the Trial Realm with the utmost caution, surviving for days in the shadows. But while slaying a beast in a hidden valley, he had stumbled upon a Mu Jade Sword lodged in a mountain stream.

His joy had been his undoing; the three vultures behind him had witnessed the find and had been hunting him ever since. Though he was at the peak of the Early Foundation Establishment stage, he stood no chance against three peers. He had only survived this long because his pursuers were wary of each other, holding back their killing blows to avoid being the first to exhaust their reserves. But he was at his limit. His internal injuries were mounting, and his spiritual essence was running dry.

"If this continues, I lose the sword and my life," Li thought grimly. He suddenly collapsed his flight light and slammed onto the forest floor. In three successive thuds, the pursuers landed, forming a lethal triangle around him.

"Why stop, Daoist Li? Have you run out of tricks?" The cultivator directly in front of him, clad in soap-colored robes, spoke with a voice like grinding stones, his eyes wary. The other two tightened their grip on their artifacts. They had already suffered minor setbacks from Li's desperate counterattacks and were in no mood for further games. Li's face darkened, his gaze locking onto the soap-robed man.

"Hmph! Daoist Chen, we were once allies. To be hounded by you like this... I will remember this debt." Chen's expression flickered with a cold, predatory light.

"Do not be dramatic, Li. We are all here for the Mu Jade Sword. If you lack the strength to hold it, hand it over. Why suffer more than necessary?"

"Chen speaks the truth," a thin, monkey-faced cultivator to the left added, his voice rasping.

"Hand it over quietly, or we shall peel it from your corpse." The third man said nothing, but his eyes, cold and murderous, spoke of an impending slaughter.