“You… you?”

Baili Xiaosheng looked at her master, utterly astonished. Heavens, this man had always been the one being looked after by others — since when had he ever kept watch over someone else like this?

Something about him, ever since coming back this time, felt increasingly off, in more ways than one.

Take that joke about Xiong Bao just now, for instance — if it had been before, there was no way he would have said something like that with such genuine seriousness.

Baili Xiaosheng grew serious herself, studying Baili Weisheng up and down carefully. Uncomfortable under her scrutiny, Baili Weisheng shoved her away. “Off you go, off you go, what are you staring at!”

“Master!” Baili Xiaosheng called out very seriously.

“What!” Baili Weisheng answered impatiently.

“Are you… alright?”

“What are you on about now?”

“Master, why are you keeping watch over her? Physician Jue already said she’d be fine — she just needs to sleep it off.”

“Why so many questions, just go, go, go!”

“Master, you’re being really strange.”

“Are you going or not?”

Baili Weisheng suddenly narrowed his eyes — what was so strange about any of this? If it weren’t for the old lady insisting over and over, he wouldn’t have stayed behind at all — he’d have gone straight to sleep long ago.

“No, I’m not leaving. Your disciple will keep watch with you.” Baili Xiaosheng said cheerfully, entirely unbothered by Baili Weisheng’s sour expression, and sat down beside him.

Baili Weisheng shot her a raised eyebrow but didn’t bother arguing further, continuing to rest his chin on his hands, staring at the floor tiles, mulling over his own origins.

Could it be that the fusion of Golden Jiao and Lonely Isle bloodlines might resolve the human-Gu constitution, just like the fusion of Lonely Isle and Meng Clan bloodlines had?

Only, Xiong Xiaobao, aside from having human-Gu blood, was otherwise entirely normal in every other way — and he’d been born that way naturally.

But he himself was different — he had been cultivated as a human Gu, which was exactly why he’d ended up in this state now, neither fully human nor something else entirely.

His body was, quite literally, a genuine human-Gu body!

Unable to work it out no matter how hard he thought, Baili Weisheng shook his head and said flatly, “Whatever, forget it. Not like I’ll die from it either way.”

With that, he naturally rose to his feet, about to leave.

“Master…” Baili Xiaosheng called out timidly.

Only then did Baili Weisheng turn back. “What?”

“You’re leaving?” Baili Xiaosheng asked, puzzled.

“What am I supposed to do, just stand around here?”

With that, Baili Weisheng turned and walked away without so much as a backward glance, reaching the courtyard gate before suddenly feeling like there was still something he’d meant to do — only, he didn’t dwell on it, and simply kept walking!

This left Baili Xiaosheng, standing there behind him, utterly stunned for a good long while.

This man — just a moment ago he’d been going on and on about keeping watch over Meng Duo’er, and the very next instant he’d forgotten all about it entirely. What on earth was going on in his head?

Baili Xiaosheng stood rooted to the spot for a long while, glancing back and forth between the bedroom door and the courtyard gate, and finally shrugged, striding off in the same direction as her master!

But she hadn’t gone far at all when Meng Duo’er’s voice suddenly came from inside the room.

“Someone… someone… help…”

“Is anyone there… please…”

…

Helplessly, the courtyard stood completely empty, with no one at all to hear her cries for help.

By now, the bright moon hung high overhead — it was the dead of night, and the entire peak of Liuxian Island lay in tranquil silence.

Yet within the master bedroom at the mountaintop, behind layer upon layer of hanging gauze curtains, a scene of breathtaking intimacy unfolded.

Upon the enormous round bed, beneath a silk-covered quilt, Ziqing lay curled up, entirely bare, her skin like ice and snow, exquisitely delicate, glimpsed only in fleeting, tantalizing hints.

Her small face was buried in the pillow, not yet asleep, yet too exhausted to want to move at all.

Beside her, the man lay half-reclined against the tall pillows, the silk quilt only half-covering him, utterly unable to conceal his bronzed, striking physique — the sharply defined lines of his chest, his lean waist, his long, powerful legs, everything about him so flawlessly perfect it seemed carved by heaven itself. Just looking at him was enough to leave anyone helplessly captivated!

And yet, more captivating still than any of that was his devastatingly handsome face, so beautiful it seemed almost an affront to gods and men alike, impossible to look away from.

At his temples, his forehead, along the high bridge of his nose, beads of sweat glistened, ready to fall at any moment — a sight that stirred all manner of thoughts.

The room lay in silence, thick with intimacy, the only sound the man’s slightly ragged breathing.

That earlier fury of his — surely, it must have faded considerably by now!

In any case, Ziqing had no attention left to spare for any of that right now — all she wanted was to fall asleep this very instant, utterly, completely exhausted!

In all the time she’d spent with this man, this was the first time she’d ever felt this exhausted, feeling as though her entire body might be taken apart, piece by piece!

She lay limp and powerless among the bedding, unconsciously drawn in by the sound of his breathing — but very soon, she sensed that breath drawing closer, and gradually, Jun Beiyue’s domineering presence pressed in once again, right behind her!

“Mm…”

Too weak to even form words, all she could manage was a faint, feeble protest.

So many times already — was this man really going to keep going?

A wicked, sensuous smile curved at the corner of Jun Beiyue’s lips, yet he did nothing at all, simply leaning down gently, wrapping Ziqing in a warm embrace from behind.

That domineering large hand remained around her waist, no longer causing her any pain now.

He buried his face against her shoulder and suddenly laughed — said nothing at all, simply laughed.

At his laughter, Ziqing let out a breath of relief as well — at least it was over now, he wasn’t angry anymore.

In truth, there had never really been anything worth being angry about. He knew she had done this to keep herself away from Meng Wanyue, to avoid that despair in her heart that had curdled from disappointment into genuine heartache.

He also knew that she wouldn’t act recklessly in her dealings — she would surely account for her own safety.

And yet, in the end, he still couldn’t help but worry. No matter how strong she became, for the rest of his life, he would never stop worrying about her!

“Sleep now. We leave tomorrow.” Jun Beiyue said quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to Ziqing’s hair.

Ziqing didn’t answer, her heart filled with warmth, overflowing — how she wished this moment could last a lifetime!

Helplessly, tomorrow they would have to set off again, journeying far to the Flame Mountain of Western Liang.

Fortunately, only two locations remained — all the secrets were on the verge of being revealed!

Soon, they would finally uncover the true secret of the Lonely Isle, its true location!

After holding on for so long, only two places left!

There was cause for joy, cause for excitement!

Lonely Isle — wait for us!

We’re almost there!

Ziqing and the others were to set out the next day — but at this very moment, Xuanyuan Lige had only just arrived at the bottom of the Innocent Ravine.

He landed atop a large rock at the edge of the shallows, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, purple robes and silver hair, appearing ethereal and mysterious beneath the hazy moonlight.

The stretch of seawater before him was entirely black — he recognized at a single glance that this was the poison he himself had ordered administered.

His cold gaze swept across the black water, scanning the surrounding rock walls, and soon he spotted a cave opening.

Mi’er had said this was Silver Jiao territory — and yet, having come all the way here, he hadn’t encountered a single Silver Jiao at all. Could it be that they’d all been poisoned to death?

If they’d been poisoned to death, shouldn’t there at least be bodies?

But none of that concerned him right now. He had come here for the Song of Parting Sorrow!

That had been the sound of the climax of the Song of Parting Sorrow — though he hadn’t heard it entirely clearly, he would never mistake that rhythm, not in a thousand years.

It was a sound like the crashing waves beneath Qinse Sea Valley on Liuxian Island — a sound of pure nature!