Yet Zhiwei grasped tightly.
"Even if it doesn't hurt, it still needs to be cleaned."
Zhiwei stubbornly held his wrist, leaning in closer, her nose almost touching Chen Ye's forearm,
"Sister is right, Master indeed carries too many mixed scents."
"Some are from outsiders, others from Sister."
The girl's voice grew softer.
"It's too messy."
"Master, how about I help you with a bath later? I've just learned a new massage technique that can help get rid of the smell."
...
In conclusion.
The task of teaching Qing Jun a lesson was left to Zhiwei.
Chen Ye used cultivation as an excuse to escape early to the Quiet Chamber.
He sat crossed-legged on the prayer mat, listening to the distant sounds of Qing Jun's wailing outside, and let out a long breath of stale air.
"Just let her be. Anyway, Qing Jun's skin is tough, she should be taught a lesson."
Chen Ye's heart was like stone.
He introspected himself.
