When I woke up, the entire cultivation world was talking about my master.

Yi Chen didn't say a word, but turned to look at the witch doctor.

Destroying a spiritual root and replacing a spiritual root are two completely different concepts.

Throughout history, the cultivation world has been full of wicked and unscrupulous individuals who steal the spiritual roots of others and transplant them into their own bodies in order to steal talents and opportunities.

Even the shaman who has secluded himself in Peach Blossom Spring for many years knows that in this world, there is only one person with the Heavenly Spirit Root.

Linlang's gaze fell on Chu Xianlan with mixed feelings for a moment, then turned to look at Yi Chen. The two of them saw the same answer in each other's eyes.

Ji Ran, the crown prince of the Southern Cang royal family.

Linlang carefully reviewed all that she had learned in her life before cautiously saying, "Considering Fellow Daoist Chu's condition, I speculate that... he still has the spiritual essence of a Heavenly Spiritual Root remaining in his body, which is why he attracts the gathering of the five kinds of Heavenly Spirits."

"And the person who stole his spiritual root must have realized this as well."

"Perhaps, the other party sensed the signs that Fellow Daoist Chu's spiritual root was about to be reshaped, and thought that the Heavenly Spiritual Root might be taken back from its original owner, so they tried to take action to fight for it, which led to... Fellow Daoist Chu's spiritual power continuously leaking out."

In the past, the highly respected witch doctor of Peach Blossom Spring would not have uttered such absurd speculation, even to herself. However, she genuinely wanted to help the master and apprentice who had supported each other all this time. To confirm her idea, Linlang gave a few instructions and left in a hurry.

The herb pool, hidden deep within the medicine hut, was quiet and deserted.

The medicine hut was completely covered by thick curtains, which effectively gathered the spiritual energy and heat into the pool, preventing any leakage.

Yi Chen lowered his eyes in thought, gently placed Chu Xianlan on the soft stool by the pool, bent down and stretched out his fingertips to test the temperature of the misty water before removing the boy's clothes and finding a calm spot by the pool to pick him up again.

Then, I stepped into the pool myself.

Chu Xianlan did not react at all; she had truly fallen asleep.

He closed his eyes and let Yi Chen do as he pleased. His long, jet-black hair cascaded into the water like a waterfall, with a few strands of black hair clinging to the boy's fair cheeks, outlining his jade-like and golden features.

A moment later, the hair was gently parted by a scarred hand.

Yi Chen thought to himself, "That makes sense."

Not to mention the Southern Cang royal family, none of the world's most precious treasures and rare gems could match his Xianlan.

The snake's tail coiled up, serving as a cushion at the bottom of the pool, supporting the boy's body and separating him from the cold stone bottom. Yi Chen turned Chu Xianlan's head to the side, adjusting it so that it rested on his right shoulder.

He was reluctant to entrust his disciples to others for care, so he did everything himself.

As the mist rose, Chu Xianlan's pale cheeks gradually regained some color.

For days, Yi Chen stayed by his lifeless disciple's side without leaving for a moment. He thought a lot and hated his own cold body temperature more than once, unable to bring even a trace of warmth to the other person. Ice-type spiritual energy was also very cold. He wondered if passing it over would make Chu Xianlan feel even worse, but he dared not stop.

Yi Chen stared intently at the small mole under the boy's eyebrow, then silently rubbed it with his knuckle, causing Chu Xianlan's eyelids to twitch slightly.

"Master..."

"Yes, your teacher is here."

Chu Xianlan lifted his heavy eyelids, bewildered in his hazy state, wondering how he had fallen asleep again. He leaned against the solid body, the familiar scent making him feel safe, yet also a little lost.

"Are you cold?"

"I'm not cold." How could I be cold? I feel warm and dizzy all over.

Yi Chen hugged him tighter and asked, "Does it still hurt?"

Chu Xianlan shook her head.

It really doesn't hurt.

The excruciating pain that felt like my dantian was being torn apart on the day I fainted has completely disappeared. The feeling of spiritual energy leaking out comes in waves; it was there just now, but it has stopped now. Apart from feeling weak and limp, there is nothing particularly uncomfortable about my body.

He thought to himself, "I've never seen anything like this before."

Even though I have boundless energy every day, there will come a day when I run out of strength.

It wasn't until she coughed lightly, choked by the rising steam, that Chu Xianlan belatedly realized where she and her master were, and what the sensation of half her body being pressed against hers was.

Pupil earthquake.

When Chu Xianlan heard the words "medicinal bath," he probably guessed that his master would personally help him change clothes and take care of him.

Even though he understood that his master would never take advantage of him while he was unconscious, the fact that they were so frank with each other was still incredibly shocking.

And, isn't the distance a little too close?

Chu Xianlan felt a sudden unease, sensing the cool, smooth texture of the scales against her skin. It was indeed her master's tail!

Water splashes up.

The pure white snake tail was so long that it could stir up the water and the ground with a single movement. An overwhelming aura enveloped him, and Chu Xianlan shuddered as he was entangled. Suddenly, Yi Chen's hand firmly grasped his hand underwater.

Noticing the hand trembling slightly, so violently that it made Chu Xianlan freeze, and she asked softly, uncertainly:

"Master?"

After a moment of silence, Yi Chen lowered his eyes, his voice low and deep, lingering in my ears:

"...I am very scared."

Chu Xianlan felt as if she had been struck by lightning, and turned around.

Yi Chen stared intently at him, saying nothing more, as if afraid that the other person would disappear in the blink of an eye.

Chu Xianlan also understood all the unspoken words from those eyes—therefore, the weakness that made the mortal immortal Jiang Xian show his vulnerability was himself.

In Chu Xianlan's eyes, his master was like an unshakable mountain, a support he could rely on even when he had nowhere else to retreat. Words like fear and terror were never compatible with Immortal Lord Jixue.

He thought that his master might need some comfort right now.

Just like when she comforted the manic half-demon last time, Chu Xianlan reached out and carefully stroked Yi Chen's cheek.

A glint seemed to flash in Yi Chen's eyes. He turned his head and obediently placed his hand against Chu Xianlan's palm.

Water droplets dripped down her wet, silvery-white hair.

One drop, two drops.

It created tiny ripples.

Chu Xianlan took a deep breath and boldly touched the other's long, thick eyelashes with her fingertips. The friction brought a tingling, itchy feeling. Her fingertips lingered, tracing the delicate features, gliding over the eyebrows, eyelids, bridge of the nose, tip of the nose, and earlobes. Every touch was as delicate as jade.

Although the two had shared many intimate moments, Chu Xianlan had never touched her master's face with such tenderness and care.

Yi Chen remained unmoved, allowing him to control and indulge his disciple's every move.

The fingertips continued downwards, from the chin to the Adam's apple, and then to the delicate neck.

At this moment, a strange thought suddenly popped into Chu Xianlan's mind: Everyone says to strike a snake at its seven-inch mark, but where is Master's seven-inch mark?

White mist swirled and enveloped the depths of the bamboo forest. It was unclear who approached first, but two bodies pressed tightly together through the moisture, their already damp lips and tongues entwined.

It was incredibly damp.