"Uh..." Leng Leng was struck dumb on the spot, staring blankly at Wei Zhao, not knowing what to say. Not a single one of these pills was an ordinary thing; in the Primordial Little Jianghu, they were treasures over which people would fight until their heads split, and some she had never even laid eyes on.

Leng Leng could not help but wonder again in her heart: just what sort of background did Wei Zhao have? How was it that these rarest and most precious pills, in his hands, were like worthless sugar beans, casually fished out by the handful?

While Leng Leng was still reeling, Wei Zhao seized the moment before his spirit-body could collapse completely and poured his true-qi into her with all his strength to dissolve the medicine's power, at the same time swallowing a fifth-grade Great Return Pill and a fourth-grade Great Return Pill. He feared Leng Leng could not hold out much longer, so he had no choice but to help dissolve as much of the medicinal power as possible—only thus could he rest easy.

Feeling the warm true-qi flowing from Wei Zhao's hand, Leng Leng was filled with gratitude—yet at the same time deeply worried. What Wei Zhao was doing was plainly drawing on the last of his life force!

She wanted to stop him, but dared not. She feared that once she interrupted him, it would bring backlash upon Wei Zhao, and then the consequences might well be even worse.

At that moment all Leng Leng could do was weep silently. She desperately wanted to turn and embrace Wei Zhao—even if she did nothing else, just to hold him thus until the end of time.

At last Wei Zhao withdrew his true-qi. Leng Leng could clearly sense that he had grown even weaker, for with his hand upon her back she could scarcely feel any weight at all. She simply dared not imagine what that meant.

"Wei Zhao..." Leng Leng spun around abruptly, wanting to embrace him, only to find that Wei Zhao was no longer behind her. Instead, a voice came from outside the window.

"I'm leaving. You should go too. We'll meet again very soon." By now Wei Zhao was in a half-spirit-body state, barely able to float in the air; even a casual breeze could blow him far away.

Leng Leng rushed to the window and searched desperately for Wei Zhao, but saw nothing at all. She could only shout at the top of her voice: "I can only stay here for a year! My home is in Shennongjia—there's an entrance to the Primordial Little Jianghu there. You must come find me! I'll be waiting!"

Wei Zhao gave no answer, but hearing this he could not help pondering inwardly: what sort of place was the Primordial Little Jianghu?

On second thought, since the mortal world had an ancient stratum, it was no wonder that an even older and more enduring primordial stratum should exist—only this place must surely be cut off from the world, and under ordinary circumstances had no influence upon the mortal realm at all.

Were it not for the present circumstances, Wei Zhao would certainly have stayed to question Leng Leng thoroughly. Unfortunately, he had no time for that now. What he had to do was dissolve his spirit-body at once and return to Cloud Terrace Island, then cultivate diligently and project himself anew as soon as possible. There would be time enough afterward to learn of these things.

Wei Zhao made no reply, but Leng Leng did not give up. Suddenly struck by a thought, she called out: "Wait! I have something good for you too!"

She waited a moment, but Wei Zhao still did not appear. Leng Leng had no choice but to say: "I know you haven't left. I'll just leave it here—come and get it yourself!"

With that, she carefully drew a small box from her innermost garment and set it on the table nearby. After thinking a moment, she said: "I don't know whether this thing will be of any use to you, but Sun Baimei went to every length to snatch it from me, and he is one who cultivates spiritual sense above all else. I think it should be of use to a spirit-body!"

For Sun Baimei, apart from Wei Zhao—that ready-made, powerful spirit-body—the thing he most desired to obtain was this object in Leng Leng's keeping. In a sense, its value was even greater than a ready-made spirit-body like Wei Zhao.

But that was a long-term consideration. As far as Sun Baimei's present level was concerned, the effects of a powerful spirit-body like Wei Zhao's were still more direct and obvious—after all, devouring Wei Zhao would let him charge straight for the Golden Core, whereas this thing in Leng Leng's hands had no such effect.

Still no sound from Wei Zhao, but Leng Leng was utterly certain he had not left. She went on explaining: "Before I set out, my master gave me this thing especially, so that while I was in the mortal world I could use it to consolidate my spiritual sense and prepare for charging the Golden Core in the future... This thing is very rare. My sect has passed it down for many generations, and there is only this one piece. It was given to me only because I am one of the disciples with the best hope of charging the Golden Core stage..."

Leng Leng knew that in doing this she had already broken her sect's rules, for although the thing had been passed down to her, in essence it was still a treasure of the sect; without the sect's consent she had no right to give it away on her own. But now she could not care about such things. For Wei Zhao's sake she would risk everything, let alone a single treasure.

Having said all this, Leng Leng waited a while longer, hoping to hear Wei Zhao's voice. But Wei Zhao never appeared, and she knew that if she did not leave, he would probably not show himself.

"I'm going. You must come find me!" Leng Leng called out bitterly. She cast one glance at the empty room, then, tears streaming, gritted her teeth and departed.

Leng Leng had not guessed wrong: Wei Zhao had indeed not left just like that. Though his most urgent task was to dissolve his spirit-body and return to Cloud Terrace Island, he had to watch Leng Leng leave this place safely before he could be at ease. In truth he was in his own room next door, watching her every move—only Leng Leng herself could not detect it.

After Leng Leng had gone, Wei Zhao came back with unsteady, drifting steps. At a glance he saw the box on the table, and for some inexplicable reason his spirits suddenly lifted; it was as though the thing were summoning him, and some vast, unseen attraction seemed to draw him to it.

Could this be some wicked thing? Wei Zhao's heart gave a start—in his present precarious state he could not withstand any more trouble. But the thought was quickly cast from his mind: if the thing were truly harmful, why would Leng Leng's master have passed it to her? After all, there was no reason for the man to harm his own most promising disciple, was there?

In any case, if anything went wrong he could dissolve his spirit-body at the first instant. Wei Zhao stepped cautiously forward and opened the box. Inside was a blackish-purple object, at first glance like a piece of charred coal, unremarkable and showing not the slightest sign of wonder—yet when he leaned a little closer he was abruptly startled: within it was actually contained countless streams of spiritual-sense energy!

Wei Zhao considered his own spiritual sense no weak thing—even the ghostly entity called him a rare monster—yet compared with the spiritual-sense energy in that blackish-purple charred lump, it was a single hair from nine oxen, a grain from the vast sea, with no comparison whatsoever. (To be continued.)

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