SES Chapter 207 Part 2

Mu Dai said, “It’s probably almost dawn. The river’s about to flow again. Master said to put it back before daybreak, so the current doesn’t damage the Guansi Archway.”

They closed the box again. Mu Dai carried it out, and Luo Ren took a flashlight and went with her.

With one less flashlight and a whole night’s worth of weariness, the tent grew much darker. Cao Yanhua lay down with his head propped on his arm. The ground was uneven; even with a moisture-proof mat, it still dug painfully into his waist.

He kicked Wan San lightly. “Brother San, tell me—what do you think it feels like to become a Star-Lord, with tens of thousands of people at your command?”

Wan San kicked him back. “What, we’re not even there yet, and your mind’s already wandering?”

He lay down slowly as well. “But yeah. It probably feels pretty good.”

Yan Hongsha’s annoyed voice came from nearby. “What kind of attitude is that?!”

Outside, the sound of rushing water grew louder and louder. When Mu Dai and the others returned, Cao Jiefang also ducked back in. It had wandered in the thick fog all night, covered in mist and dew, looking like a drowned chicken.

Cao Yanhua felt bad for it. “Hey, Jiefang, come here. Sleep here.”

Cao Jiefang ignored him, scampered to a corner, and curled up there.

Luo Ren checked his watch. “Let’s sleep a bit. We’ll have to head out again tonight. Don’t exhaust yourselves.”

The inner and outer tents together were spacious enough. The charlatan was too excited to sleep and said he wanted to “do some research,” taking up one corner along with Cao Jiefang. The others shared a single blanket: Luo Ren in the middle, with Cao Yanhua and Wan San on his right, and Mu Dai and Yan Hongsha on his left.

At first, none of them could really fall asleep, but there was nothing to discuss either. Gradually, the sound of steady breathing filled the tent. Luo Ren heard Cao Yanhua mutter, “Nineteen, eighteen… when we go out tonight, there’ll only be seventeen days left…”

Luo Ren smiled faintly, lowered his gaze, and saw that Mu Dai was looking at him.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

He extended his arm. Mu Dai leaned over naturally and rested her head on his shoulder. On the other side, Yan Hongsha—half-asleep—mumbled something and turned away.

All the flashlights were off. The tent was dim, filled with the rhythm of long, even breaths. The charlatan, considerate as ever, had wrapped himself in canvas like a sack so the phone’s light wouldn’t disturb anyone, huddling inside to read.

Luo Ren held Mu Dai close. In the deep quiet, he could almost hear her heartbeat.

They’d only just fallen asleep, but the valley had already begun to wake. He could hear the sounds unique to early morning—chirping insects, birds calling, leaves spinning down onto the tent roof, their shadows cast so clearly that even the serrated edges were visible.

Mu Dai sighed softly in his arms.

Luo Ren knew why.

Everyone else here could be like Cao Yanhua—hear that things were serious and immediately say, “I’m out, I’m done with this.” Everyone except her. She had made a promise to Plum Blossom Ninth Lady, accepted a burden, and said solemnly, “Master, I can’t promise everything, but I swear I’ll risk my life to do what I agreed to.”

Plum Blossom Ninth Lady truly hadn’t chosen the wrong disciple. Mu Dai was a girl who took promises seriously.

She whispered in his ear, “Luo Xiaodao, if in the end someone really has to die, I can’t let you all die.”

Luo Ren chuckled softly. He tightened his arm around her shoulders, holding her easily—one arm was enough to pull her completely into his embrace. Qingmu always said, “Your little lamb would fall over if the wind blew.” That wasn’t entirely wrong. She trained in martial arts year-round, so why was she still so slender? Was it because lightness was needed for qigong?

Plum Blossom Ninth Lady had handed this matter to her, and she had immediately started worrying—everyone here had become her responsibility. That was why she could say so firmly, “I can’t let you all die.”

But what about herself?

Luo Ren thought it and asked it aloud. “What about you?”

She seemed a little lost. After a pause, she said, “I’ll think of something.”

The charlatan called her a “brick of wisdom.” She probably really thought it was a compliment about her intelligence.

Luo Ren reached out and rubbed her head. His fingertips brushed her hair, and something caught his eye. He gently parted a strand.

There was a faint hint of pale white—maybe dye fading, maybe new growth at the roots.

Something surged in his chest, an indescribable mix of emotions. His breathing grew uneven. Mu Dai noticed and looked at him curiously, then placed a hand on his chest and whispered by his ear, “It’s okay. Don’t worry. There’ll be a way.”

She didn’t even know what he was hurting over.

Luo Ren’s eyes grew hot. He turned his head and kissed her lips, his other hand bracing her waist and pulling her body close.

The movement wasn’t big, but Mu Dai’s scalp still went numb. There were so many people in the tent—one of them even awake. Luo Ren was being way too bold.

She instinctively tried to pull back, but his hand pressed against her lower back. After the initial panic, a faint, thrill-seeking delight bubbled up instead.

The sweetness was sharper for being hidden and frightening.

She responded carefully, making no sound, doing her best to suppress her breathing. A flash of mischievous triumph crossed Luo Ren’s eyes.

Two phrases popped into Mu Dai’s mind.

Instant chemistry.
Birds of a feather.

Luo Ren’s hand slid under her clothes, the lightly calloused pads of his fingers brushing against her skin. At some point her undergarment loosened. His movements were gentle, but that teasing, almost-there touch was unbearable.

His kiss trailed down to her neck. She bit her lip hard to keep silent, her body tensing, head tilting back slightly—

Huh?!

When did Cao Jiefang get there?

Mu Dai froze.

Cao Jiefang was standing not far from their heads, wings tucked in, tiny eyes wide like soybeans, brimming with the excitement of discovering a whole new world.

Mu Dai’s head buzzed. She practically begged it with her lips alone: Don’t. Don’t call out…

“Heh… do… lo…”

The sound was piercing, echoing endlessly in the cramped tent.

Luo Ren reacted instantly. He yanked her downward, pressed her head into his chest, and closed his eyes. Just like that, it looked like nothing more than a couple embracing in their sleep.

Everyone witnessed Cao Yanhua’s legendary morning temper.

At that moment, “pet,” “beloved chicken,” “good chicken”—all of it went straight out the window.

He roared, “Cao Jiefang! A whole tent full of people sleeping—are you trying to die?!”

He shot out of the blankets, pounced, grabbed Cao Jiefang, vaulted over Wan San to the edge of the tent, and hurled it out like a shot put.

The flapping grew fainter with distance, mixed with indignant squawking.

Yan Hongsha yanked the blanket over her face, complaining tearfully, “What is wrong with Cao Jiefang? I just fell asleep…”

Mu Dai rubbed her eyes and half sat up, looking freshly awakened. “Why is it yelling like that…”

Cao Yanhua nodded and bowed apologetically. “Hongsha, Little Master, go back to sleep, sleep. I’ve thrown it out…”