Chapter 63 - 61, 2: Eldest Senior Brother

Chapter 63: Chapter 61, 2: Eldest Senior Brother"Yin Yang Polar Ring."

In her left hand, Qingling held a ball of ice-cold Alien Water, and in her right, a thread of scorching Strange Fire. Under the incredulous gazes of the three Nascent Soul cultivators, the two forces slowly merged into a ring the size of a head, emitting an extremely terrifying aura that caused palpitations.

Unable to withstand it directly, the three exchanged a glance and fled in three different directions at a break-neck speed, seemingly afraid the horrifying ring would chase after them.

Qingling took the storage bag from the man who had died and smiled gently at the man in the Array, "Alright, they’ve all run away. You can come out now."

Not only did the Fairy possess a beautiful appearance, but her voice was also as melodious as a lark’s, causing Xue Yang’s face to flush. Whether due to his injuries or sheer embarrassment was unclear.

Looking at him, Qingling couldn’t help thinking that the Cultivation World was indeed filled with handsome men—casually saving one turned out to be a top-notch individual.

Xue Yang was about one meter eighty in height, and although not as tall and powerful as the Demon Prince, his slender figure, fair skin, and injuries gave off a sense of a vulnerably beautiful man.

This kind of beauty sparked a slight tumult in Qingling’s heart.

In front of the Demon Prince, she was like a little bird that needed sheltering, but in front of Xue Yang, she felt like a strong woman who could cause chaos with a wave of her hand.

"My name is Xue Yang; I am the prime Disciple of the Array Sect. Thank you for saving me." Xue Yang’s pale face flushed unnaturally, and the corner of his mouth, which had just bled, was even more eye-catching.

Qingling’s heart fluttered under his grateful and admiring gaze, and her hand naturally helped him to sit down, softly saying, "I am Qingling, a Disciple of the Sword Pavilion. You are injured; please sit down."

Hearing that she was a Disciple of the Sword Pavilion, Xue Yang’s trust in her deepened, and his gaze at her seemed intent on etching her features into his heart: "May I call you Aqing?"

Qingling took out an Elixir from her space, delivering it to his mouth by hand.

His gaze brightened as Xue Yang watched her. Qingling’s exquisitely beautiful face blushed slightly, and she murmured softly, "Eat the medicine; you can call me anything."

Xue Yang gently opened his lips, possibly out of happiness, or because his injuries sapped his strength, or maybe because Qingling’s actions encouraged him, and his lips touched Qingling’s hand that fed him the medicine.

Qingling was caught off guard by this gesture, averting her eyes unnaturally and coughing lightly, as if nothing had happened.

But Xue Yang laughed happily.

Seeing his reaction, Qingling also smiled lightly, a peculiar atmosphere emanated around the two of them.

The little fox noticed this because it could not speak, and it squeaked as if to declare its own sovereignty.

After Xue Yang’s injuries healed, the two left the forest and arrived at a town where the local Meteor Trading House was holding an auction. They decided to take a look.

"Qingling? What are you doing here?" At the entrance of the trading house, a man with peach-blossom eyes clad in red emerged, holding a folded fan in his right hand. His eyes, alluring and lifted slightly, made the female cultivators around blush.

At that moment, this man with peach-blossom eyes, ignoring the advances of the female cultivators around him, walked excitedly towards a Fairy-like woman in white robes standing beside him—a man in green garments, equally breathtaking in beauty. They were none other than Qingling and Xue Yang.

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Qingling turned around in surprise and joyfully said, "Brother Fanxing, what are you doing here?"

The man with peach-blossom eyes patted Qingling’s head indulgently, "There have been some changes in business around here recently, so I came to check on it. Are you doing well?"

Then, raising an eyebrow, he looked at Xue Yang, his eyes narrowing with a hint of hostility: "And who is this?"

Xue Yang was also on guard against the peach-blossom-eyed man called Fanxing, and possessively wrapped his arm around Qingling’s shoulder.

A flicker of murderous intent passed in the depths of Fanxing’s eyes.

Qingling seemed oblivious to the strange atmosphere between the two men, holding Xue Yang’s hand and saying, "Brother Fanxing, he is Xue Yang, my lover." As she finished, her cheeks blushed crimson.

Fanxing felt a jealousy so strong he was nearly driven mad. Yet, not wanting to put Qingling in a difficult position, he restrained himself from acting.

"Really? Lover?" he murmured, while internally questioning, "Then what about me? What am I? A brother? No, I don’t want to be your brother!"

At night, Fanxing, using the pretext that the two were not yet married, deliberately arranged separate rooms for Qingling and Xue Yang, placing them some distance apart, and he surreptitiously slipped into Qingling’s room.

Fanxing sat at the bedside, gazing obsessively at Qingling’s stunningly beautiful sleeping face, full of admiration, whispering, "I love you too, when will you stop seeing me as just a brother!"