189: Chapter 189 Departure

Ye Yun rested one hand on Fang Hansu's bare back, his fingertips slowly tracing along her spine.

From the nape of her neck to her shoulder blades, and from her shoulder blades to the small of her back, it was as if he were sketching a painting he could never tire of looking at.

His mind was very peaceful.

Since the day he transmigrated to this world, he had been calculating and planning every single day.

Calculating how to become stronger, and planning how to survive.

From Qingyun City to Black Wind Ridge, from Black Wind Ridge to Shiyun City, and from Shiyun City to the Luoxue Sect.

Every step had been like walking on thin ice; he hadn't dared to relax for a single moment.

The Zhao family of Qingyun City wanted him dead, and Murong Yun of the Luoxue Sect wanted him dead. He had killed others and been hunted by others; he had schemed against people and been schemed against in turn.

He was used to treating everyone as pawns on a chessboard—keeping the useful ones, discarding the useless ones, and killing the threatening ones.

But at this moment, lying in this quiet morning, a woman whose body was so soft she lacked even a shred of strength was sprawled in his arms.

Listening to her long, steady breaths and feeling the vibration of her heartbeat through her skin—thump, thump, and thump again.

He actually found himself thinking of nothing at all.

Not Murong Yun, not the Luoxue Sect, not revenge, and not becoming stronger.

In this moment, he only wanted this morning to last a little longer, to let this woman lie in his arms for just a while more.

The corners of Ye Yun's mouth curved up unconsciously—a very slight arc that even he didn't realize was there.

That expression wasn't the faint smile he usually wore on his face.

It wasn't the cold sneer that curled his lips after killing someone, nor was it the condescending contempt he showed his enemies.

It was a trace of genuine tenderness rising from the depths of his heart, a feeling so foreign it even surprised him.

[Damn it.]

He cursed softly in his mind and then sighed, resigned to his fate.

But he had to leave.

Fang Hansu's eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if she had sensed something.

She didn't wake up, though; she only burrowed a bit deeper into his embrace.

Ye Yun looked down at her for a long time.

Then, he carefully moved her out of his arms. His movements were very light and slow, as if he were moving a piece of fragile porcelain.

The moment Fang Hansu's back touched the bedsheets, her brow furrowed slightly, and her hand reached out unconsciously to feel the space beside her.

Ye Yun stuffed a pillow into her arms.

She hugged the pillow and buried her face in it; her brow smoothed out again, and that faint smile still hung on the corners of her mouth.

Ye Yun stood by the bed and watched her like this, remaining silent for a moment.

Then, he took a Storage Pouch out of his System space.

Inside were some of the xuan stones he had taken from the Wu Family's treasury: two hundred low-grade mysterious stones and five Medium Grade mysterious stones.

There were also several bottles of Medicinal Pills for healing and recovering Mystic Power, as well as some valuable jade items he had looted from the Wu Family.

He gently placed the Storage Pouch by Fang Hansu's pillow, looping the drawstring around her finger so she would feel it as soon as she woke up.

Then, Ye Yun leaned down.

His lips landed on hers—very light, very shallow. It was just a soft touch that lasted for about the duration of a single breath.

Her lips were very soft, carrying a slight coolness and the lingering fragrance of flower petals from the night before.

He straightened up, picked up the gray robe draped over the back of the chair, threw it on, and tied the sash.

Walking to the door, his hand was already on the latch when he stopped and looked back one last time.

Fang Hansu was hugging the pillow with her face buried in it, that faint smile still on her lips.

A few stray hairs clung to her cheek, and her eyelashes rested quietly. She was sleeping deeply, like a child.

Ye Yun withdrew his gaze, pushed open the door, and walked out.

The door closed softly.

The room fell silent, save for the occasional bird chirping outside the window and the sound of long, steady breathing from the bed.

Then, Fang Hansu's eyelashes fluttered slightly.

She slowly opened her eyes, her gaze falling on the Storage Pouch by her pillow.

She raised her hand, her fingertips touching the rough surface of the Storage Pouch.

She also felt the heavy weight of the xuan stones and Medicinal Pills inside.

Fang Hansu gripped the Storage Pouch, tightening her hold bit by bit until her knuckles turned white.

Footsteps came from outside—light, steady, and gradually fading away along the corridor.

She didn't chase after him; she only buried her face in the pillow, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Tears fell silently, soaking the indentation on the pillow where he had lain.

But from beginning to end, she didn't make a single sound.

...

The silhouette of Qingzhou City gradually blurred behind him as Ye Yun traveled north along the official road.

The late autumn wind blew across the open fields, kicking up the withered yellow leaves on both sides of the road and swirling them past his feet.

He had changed into a clean gray robe, with the burning snow sword slung at his waist. His pace was neither fast nor slow, like an ordinary traveler.

But if any Martial Artist were to approach, they would feel the faint aura surrounding him.

It was thick, deep, and restrained, like a crouching tiger feigning sleep.

Half-step Martial Spirit.

He was only one thin barrier away from truly stepping into the Martial Spirit Realm.

At that time, he would be able to walk on air and transform Mystic Power into spirit; compared to before, it would be the difference between clouds and mud.

After traveling for half a day, the silhouette of a city appeared on the horizon ahead.

The city wasn't large—it was even a bit smaller than Qingzhou City. The plaque above the city gate bore three words.

Baishi City.

Ye Yun hadn't intended to stop, wanting to reach the next city before dark so he could return to the Luoxue Sect sooner.

However, the hunger in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since leaving Qingzhou City in the morning.

He paused for a moment at the city gate before ultimately stepping inside.

The streets of Baishi City were narrower than those of Qingzhou City, but they were just as lively.

Shops lined both sides in rows—selling cloth, medicine, and weapons—with the sounds of hawking rising and falling.

Ye Yun found a noodle shop facing the street, sat by the window, and ordered a bowl of beef noodles.

The noodles were served quickly; the broth was rich, the noodles were chewy, and the beef was sliced evenly.

He picked up his chopsticks and ate slowly.

Halfway through the noodles, Ye Yun's chopsticks paused.

Someone was watching him.

It wasn't the casual glance of an ordinary diner; it was a stakeout.

He continued eating his noodles calmly, his peripheral vision scanning the area outside the window.

On the second floor of the teahouse opposite him, by the window, a young man in dark gray martial attire was holding a teacup, his gaze fixed straight on him over the rim of the cup.

The man looked to be twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with feminine features and a playful smile on his lips.

He made no effort to hide his aura—Peak Great Martial Master.

No, he was even a bit stronger than a Peak Great Martial Master, having vaguely touched the threshold of a Half-step Martial Spirit.

Ye Yun withdrew his gaze, finished the last bite of noodles in his bowl, and then tilted the bowl to drink the broth clean.

He then stood up, tossed a few copper coins on the table, and walked out of the noodle shop.

He didn't head toward the city gate but instead turned into a secluded alleyway.

The alley was very narrow, with high courtyard walls on both sides. The ground was paved with uneven blue bricks, and a few clumps of withered yellow weeds grew in the corners.

Footsteps echoed in the alley—one, two, three.

Then he stopped.

A light chuckle came from behind him, very soft and short, like a blade scraping across ice.

“Quite alert, aren't you?”

Ye Yun turned around.