How could someone as powerful as Supreme God Li Ye be ambushed like this?

Er’er couldn’t understand. Looking up, she saw his eyes filled with desolation, like a frozen lake in deep winter—no pain, no anger, only a cold killing intent gradually spreading to the surrounding world.

This is bad!

Sensing danger, Er’er wanted to flee, but before she could take a step, the spirit energy behind her surged forward like a tidal wave. Her internal organs burned, the scorching pain extending to her throat. Er’er’s eyes widened as she struggled to open her mouth to breathe, and then…

Someone poured a mouthful of tea into her mouth.

“Cough, cough, cough—”

Choking so badly her three souls and seven spirits returned to their places, Er’er clutched the bedsheet, coughing half to death.

Li Ye sat at the bedside holding a teacup, quite dissatisfied as he asked the person opposite him: “I gave her water, why does she seem worse?”

The person sitting opposite looked at him with a complicated expression, gently shook his head, and the tongue spirit bird perched on his shoulder spoke for its master: “Patient should be propped up, fed in small sips.”

…

…

How troublesome, his brows furrowed.

Kan Ze smiled without speaking, rose and approached the bedside, took the teacup from his hand, and used water-controlling techniques to guide droplets of water in a steady stream, gently moistening the patient’s lips and teeth.

Li Ye watched, finding the sight somewhat displeasing.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was displeasing, but as soon as the thought arose, the teacup in his hand shattered into pieces.

Tea spilled through the broken porcelain, touching his scorching hot fingers and instantly transforming into a wisp of white mist.

Kan Ze looked at him, puzzled.

In her hazy state, Er’er sensed a familiar killing intent. Her ears twitched as she painfully lifted her eyelids.

To her relief, Li Ye was still fine—no snake-tail knife piercing his chest, no chaotic spiritual energy running amok. After examining him for a moment, she quietly sighed in relief.

But why was the boss angry again? His hand tightly gripped the porcelain shards, and his eyes were dark and gloomy.

Muttering in confusion, Er’er reached out and pried open his somewhat pale fingers one by one.

The porcelain was so shattered that continued squeezing would surely draw blood. Given the boss’s temperament, the scent of blood would likely provoke him into harming others.

That wouldn’t do, wouldn’t do at all.

A gentle force from her hand, still warm with unabated fever, softened his heart.

Li Ye lowered his head to see the little creature concernedly holding his fingers, worrying about him getting cut despite her unhealed condition, carefully removing the shattered teacup piece by piece.

When she encountered porcelain fragments too small to pick up, she frowned, puffed her cheeks, and blew gently at his palm.

As the warm breath passed over, the displeasure in Li Ye’s heart suddenly dissipated.

He pursed his lips, turning his head away somewhat awkwardly: “So you finally decided to wake up.”

Er’er smiled foolishly, thinking to herself: Is he picking on me again? What immortal doesn’t experience weakness after surviving a heavenly tribulation? The fact that she could go outside already showed how strong and awesome she was.

Never mind, expecting praise from the boss was impossible. Er’er pouted and turned to look at the person standing on the other side.

Dressed in light blue robes nearly white, with a medicine pouch hanging at his waist, he must be a physician from the Kan Clan Immortal Sect.

Meeting her appraising gaze, this physician smiled, pointed to his lips indicating he couldn’t speak, and then the red-beaked, blue-tailed bird standing on his shoulder opened its mouth properly: “I am Kan Ze, my fee is three drops of immortal dew.”

A tongue spirit bird that could speak its master’s thoughts? Er’er was amazed and reached out to touch its tail.

Li Ye couldn’t stand her unsophisticated behavior and slapped her hand away, then yanked the blanket up to cover her head.

A bottle of immortal dew flew out from his sleeve and landed before Kan Ze.

Kan Ze hurriedly accepted it. Just as he was about to open the bottle to collect three drops, he heard the man before him say gloomily: “Take it all.”

“Squawk?” The tongue spirit bird was frightened into a duck-like cry, “The bird is not for sale!”

These weren’t Kan Ze’s words but the bird’s own, with a touch of grievance in its tone. Its eyes, like black pearls, glared at Li Ye.

Li Ye returned its gaze.

The tongue spirit bird “squawked” again, its head feathers drooping as it quickly ducked into Kan Ze’s collar, trembling with fear.

“I’m not buying the bird,” he said irritably. “I’m paying you to stay here a while longer.”

Kan Ze suddenly understood. He patted his collar, and the tongue spirit bird reluctantly poked out its head to express its master’s thoughts: “Very well.”

Then it pecked at Kan Ze’s clothes, trying desperately to pull him away.

Too scary, I want to go back to my nest.

Although Kan Ze was merely a physician, he had been with the Kan Clan Immortal Sect for many years, and his tongue spirit bird had seen all sorts of situations, yet this was the first time it had been frightened to such an extent.

He couldn’t help but take another look at the man in the room.

Ordinary immortals had ordinary immortal energy, just with a somewhat worse temper, but how could that cause such fear?

Puzzled, he shook his head and left the main chamber with his medicine bag.

Er’er pulled the covers down a few inches, revealing a pair of restlessly darting eyes.

“Master,” she said gratefully, “you didn’t need to spend so much immortal dew to hire a physician. I could have recovered through self-cultivation.”

Li Ye sneered: “I spent immortal dew to hire him only because he once served Kan Ze. What does it have to do with you?”

He glanced at the meridians in her body and said disdainfully: “If you can’t even heal such a minor injury through cultivation, don’t go around claiming to be my disciple.”

Er’er: “…”

She had felt grateful for nothing.

Deflated, she pulled the covers back up, but still couldn’t understand—Kan Ze was already dead, what more did the boss want to know?

“Er’er.” A voice called her in her mind.

Her body stiffened, and her hand tightened on the quilt.

Please, this is too frightening. Supreme God Li Ye was sitting right beside her—how could he call so loudly without being heard?

“No one but you can hear my voice,” Kan Ze sighed. “My injuries were severe, and I was often unconscious. I didn’t expect that when I awoke, you would already be back at the Kan Clan Immortal Sect.”

Surprised? Unexpected? Er’er thought, I brought you home.

Kan Ze was silent for a moment.

Then he said softly: “Under the ginkgo tree southwest of the Upper Ren Palace, there is a soul-transferring stone. If you can find it, I can leave you. But since my physical body is dead, that place has been sealed by a barrier. You’ll need to find a way to break through.”

Er’er’s head was spinning from this information. Putting aside how to break the barrier, she didn’t even know where the Upper Ren Palace was.

“Find someone who can help you.”

Who?

“Kan Ze.”

Er’er: …

What a coincidence, the person was right under her nose.

But—

Rubbing her face in distress, Er’er pulled back the covers to look at the person sitting by her bed.

Li Ye seemed somewhat tired and was meditating with closed eyes. His cold, handsome features bathed in blazing fire energy looked quite attractive.

No, attractiveness wasn’t the point. The point was that his aura of raging fire was domineering and intimidating.

With such a powerful god standing guard, how would she ever get a chance to speak privately with Kan Ze?

“Tomorrow is the Sweet Rain Festival,” Kan Ze said. “You’ll have your opportunity then.”

The Sweet Rain Festival was a major event for the Kan Clan, favorable for cultivation, advancement, and procreation. On this day, all immortals of the sect would mobilize to absorb vital energy or seek immortal companions for joint cultivation.