Ling Yu was on her way back to Xuan Tian's room. When she was about ten steps away, she saw two people rush inside.
"Hey! Stop right there!" she yelled, breaking into a run to follow them.
Mu Qingran and Li Ran didn't hear Ling Yu's shout—they were too focused on the burst of spirit energy. Their only thought was to find out what had happened.
The moment they entered the bedroom, they both froze.
A man sat cross-legged on the bed, his expression calm, his presence overwhelming.
Ling Yu burst in right behind them, ready to demand who they were, but she too halted, eyes locked onto Xuan Tian.
Oblivious to the unexpected audience, Xuan Tian remained deep in cultivation. He was breaking through to Mid Immortal Stage One—a feat that should have taken much longer, yet he had done it in less than an hour, fueled by the mysterious spirit energy source within him.
The air was thick with spirit energy, floating toward Xuan Tian. The three Low Immortals could see it—white mist, like thin, swirling clouds, drawn to him, eager to merge with his being.
One swirl. Then two. Three. Four. Until nine swirling streams of mist danced wildly around him.
It was mesmerizing.
And then, just as suddenly, the misty swirls began to fade—dissipating until nothing remained, as if it had never been there at all.
"Whoa!" Li Ran was the first to snap out of his stunned state.
Ling Yu walked toward Xuan Tian, observing him closely. His complexion looked much better. His breathing was steady and even. Her grin grew wider and wider.
Xuan Tian slowly opened his eyes. He felt refreshed. Alive.
Mid Immortal Stage One. Not bad. But still far too weak for his liking. His core was still damaged, not fully healed, leaving a lingering instability within him.
The first thing he saw was Ling Yu approaching, all smiles. He instinctively looked her over, scanning for injuries. When he found none, he exhaled, relief washing over him. She was safe.
Then, he noticed the other two people in the room. His eyes sharpened immediately, his gaze turning cold and piercing.
Low Immortal Stage Five and Low Immortal Stage Two. Disciples?
"Who are you two?" His voice was sharp, cold, commanding.
Li Ran, who knew how much his Shizun and Er-Shixiong respected this man, straightened immediately. He also knew how protective they were of him.
He quickly bowed and saluted. "Greetings, Shengzun. My name is Li Ran. I am the fourth disciple of Gu Tianzhu Zhenren." Unlike his Shizun, he did not share the same fear toward Shengzun. In his eyes, Xuan Tian was merely a Mid Immortal cultivator, nothing more.
Ling Yu nodded. "Yes, that's right. You're Li Ran."
Xuan Tian's gaze shifted to Mu Qingran. "And you?"
From the moment Mu Qingran had seen Xuan Tian surrounded by swirling mist, she had been in awe. And when their eyes met, something about him struck her deeply—sharp, intelligent, piercing. They reminded her of her mentor, Han Zhaofeng Shengzun. But this man…
His aura was on another level entirely.
She instinctively knew—this was a man who could not be trifled with.
But Mu Qingran was not new to men with overwhelming auras. And yet, there was something different about him. Something she could not name.
And before she could even think—she blushed.
Like a tomato.
Dumbfounded, Ling Yu and Li Ran could only stare.
Mu Qingran blushed harder when she realized she had only opened and closed her mouth without a single sound coming out.
Flustered, she looked down, but her gaze turned toward Xuan Tian—only for her view to be blocked. Ling Yu stood firmly in front of her, deliberately obstructing her line of sight.
Mu Qingran instantly disliked her. How dare you stand in this Princess' way?
Ling Yu shared the same instant dislike. The moment she saw Mu Qingran blushing, her hackles rose. Who is this girl, and why is she looking at Iron Wall like that?
Ling Yu squared her stance, hands firmly on her hips, her expression full of disdain. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Li Ran's eyes widened at Ling Yu's audacity. But inside, he felt triumphant. Finally, someone dares to stand up to this spoiled brat!
Mu Qingran was livid. A commoner had not only dared to block her view but was questioning her with her arms akimbo like she had any authority? How dare you! This Princess will have your head!
Refusing to be humiliated, especially in front of Xuan Tian, Mu Qingran mirrored Ling Yu's stance—both hands on her hips, her chin raised. "Who are you?! How dare you question this Princess?!"
It was now Xuan Tian's turn to be dumbfounded. He had never seen anything like this before. What's—what's happening? I just asked her identity!
Ling Yu raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. "This Princess? What do you mean? He asked who you are! Why answer like that?"
Li Ran knew he needed to intervene. This girl was a princess after all. Letting this go on wouldn't end well for his future Shimei.
"Listen—" he started.
"SHUT UP!" Both girls turned to him in unison.
Li Ran froze, stunned.
Xuan Tian knew he should intervene, but he didn't know what to do or say. He just sat there, blinking dumbly.
Mu Qingran was furious. She felt extremely disrespected by Ling Yu. Her eyes narrowed. "This Princess heard the question and was about to answer when you screamed and demanded to know who this Princess is!"
Ling Yu couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Liar! That was not what happened!"
She had no patience for this nonsense. She stepped forward toward Mu Qingran, standing her ground. "You know what, never mind. Don't tell us who you are! Just get out! Shoo! Get out!" She waved her hands dismissively, as if swatting away a pest.
Li Ran's jaw dropped. His Shimei was kicking Princess Shenxing out. This was awesome!
Mu Qingran's eyes widened in sheer disbelief. She was being kicked out?!
She didn't hesitate—her hand flew to a small, thin whistle at her waist, and she blew into it sharply.
A high-pitched sound rang throughout the entire cavern.
Wu Zhenhai had just finished assisting Bai Xunli and was making his way to find Mu Qingran when he heard the sharp whistle. He stiffened. A danger signal from the Princess!
Without hesitation, he bolted toward the source.