A few days later.
After staying up several nights in a row, Yi Lin yawned as he returned to the Yingxue Pavilion.
Burning the midnight oil like this, even as a Transcendent-level Psychic Lesser Apostle, the strongest registered disciple of the Heavenly Sword Sect, and a dignified Golden Core cultivator, Yi Lin was finding it hard to endure.
It seems he was still merely human after all.
Yi Lin sighed lightly.
With the arrival of spring, the weather warmed up, and the air carried a moist smoothness.
Jian Nanchun stood proudly on the eaves, his expression calm, gazing into the distance, hands behind his back as his robe flapped in the wind.
When Yi Lin returned, just as he was about to enter his room to catch up on sleep, Brother Jian floated down and curiously asked, "Junior Brother, you've been leaving early and returning late these past days, and haven't been in the mood to cook. Junior Sister has some complaints."
