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After spending several hours breaking through to the Deep Sea Demon Whale King's territory, night had already fallen outside.
Cold wind howled through a medium-sized stone cave. Inside, a beautiful figure curled up tightly, her three-thousand strands of hair—almost as long as her own height—draped messily over her body, some of it matted with dirt and grime.
This person was none other than Bo Saixi, whose soul power had been forcibly stripped away by Qian Renhan's ninth soul skill.
In front of her, a blond middle-aged man was carrying bundles of palm fronds, camphor branches, and several stones—materials he had collected to arrange the cave. This man was none other than Qian Daoliu.
Palm fronds were excellent materials for making makeshift tents in the wild, providing protection from wind and rain, while camphor branches helped repel mosquitoes. The forests here were thick with aggressive insects, and to someone like Bo Saixi—whose delicate skin gave off a natural fragrance—they were especially attracted.
"Qian Daoliu, I'm cold... and hungry."
Bo Saixi's already slender figure seemed even more frail after shrinking from the cold. She looked pitiful and delicate, wrapped in a cloak torn from Qian Daoliu's armor, covering what remained of her tattered red dress.
Qian Daoliu had long since shed his armor. Without soul power, he couldn't even activate his martial spirit; physically, he was now no stronger than a Grandmaster-level soul master. The heavy and rigid armor had been dismantled and repurposed into tools for survival, leaving him with only two plain garments. The blue cloak once part of his armor was given to Bo Saixi for warmth.
Turning to look at Bo Saixi, Qian Daoliu let out a helpless sigh. Without soul power, even soul tools were useless. They were surrounded by dense, mountainous wilderness with no tents, no food, and no supplies. Unless they regained their soul master abilities, escape was impossible. In the wild, the first priority was finding water, the second was making fire, and the third was securing shelter.
Fortunately, Qian Daoliu had traveled across the continent in his youth with Tang Chen, gaining survival knowledge that was now proving invaluable. Bo Saixi, on the other hand—someone who had spent her life on Sea God Island—was practically dead weight. Yet out of old friendship, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her.
Eventually, they found water, located a cave for shelter, but had no fire source and hadn't found any food. For the rest of the day, Qian Daoliu could only gather leaves to help block the wind, repel bugs, and offer some comfort—because if they had to sleep directly on the cold, hard stone floor, how would they even move by morning?
After thinking it over, Qian Daoliu handed her his outer coat, now down to a single layer of clothing himself.
"Put this on first. I'm fine... just working on this. Not cold."
"Thank you."
Qian Daoliu continued,
"I haven't found food yet, so bear with it for now. Tomorrow morning, I'll go out alone to search. If I manage to find a spark and start a fire, I'll need you to help watch over it."
Bo Saixi nodded. She watched Qian Daoliu working and tried to stay quiet—she knew full well that, in this desolate mountain forest, he was her only hope.
After a while, wrapped in the warmth of the coat, Bo Saixi asked,
"How long do you think it'll take for us to regain our powers?"
"I don't know. I've never seen this soul skill before. And I know next to nothing about fallen angels,"
Qian Daoliu replied, visibly irritated.
How could Qian Renhan be so ruthless? After sealing their soul powers, he just dumped his own grandfather in the wilderness like this. Qian Daoliu had never once intended to kill Qian Renhan. If anything, he had planned to strip his powers and bring him back to Spirit Hall, giving him the same treatment as Bibi Dong.
If it weren't for Qian Daoliu's extensive knowledge and experience, anyone else—like Qian Xunji—wouldn't even survive three days here. And that was without Bo Saixi dragging them down.
After a moment, Qian Daoliu wiped sweat from his brow and said,
"One hammock is ready. Go lie down and rest. If you fall ill, there's nothing I can do to treat you in this forest."
Though reluctant and still wary of Qian Daoliu as a potential threat, Bo Saixi had no other choice. She entered the hammock; the cold, hard stone slab beneath her had already made her hips unbearably sore.
The hammock was constructed from four arm-thick branches arranged into two X-shapes, tied securely with sturdy vines. Stones at the base anchored the structure. The hammock itself was as crude as could be—two wrist-thick branches formed the frame, laid across the X-shapes, and the bed was made of vines wrapped layer upon layer around the frame.
The hammock was long enough, but not even half a meter wide—barely enough for one person to lie down.
Of course, if the two of them were slimmer, lying sideways and curled up together, they might just barely fit in the hammock. Qian Daoliu and Bo Saixi happened to have matching builds. Unfortunately, that beautiful scene never came to pass.
Bo Saixi lay in the hammock with her back facing Qian Daoliu. She hadn't fallen asleep—or rather, she didn't dare to. She was genuinely afraid that Qian Daoliu might suddenly give in to his primal urges and take advantage of her.
However, Bo Saixi was clearly overthinking it. Qian Daoliu didn't have the slightest interest in her at the moment. His sole concern was survival. As a soul master who had lost his power and was now just an elderly man over a hundred years old, what he needed most was rest—rest that would allow him the energy to find food and firewood the next day.
Another half hour passed. Darkness had fully fallen. Qian Daoliu finally finished building his own hammock and was just about to lie down when he looked up—and froze.
Bo Saixi, who had never once experienced scaling mountains or trekking through dense forests in her century-long life, had struggled to keep up during the day. She had nearly been killed by Qian Renhan's soul skill. Drained and exhausted, she'd eventually fallen asleep, her side-sleeping posture gradually shifting into lying flat on her back.
Her delicate, curvaceous figure, draped in worn and torn fabric, was now fully exposed to Qian Daoliu's line of sight. Especially those long, pale legs—partially revealed due to the tattered skirt she had ripped for mobility—were enough to tempt any leg enthusiast into wanting to pounce and plant a few kisses.
At that moment, Qian Daoliu's mind wandered. He recalled how he had once stepped aside from Spirit Hall leadership, allowing Qian Xunji to inherit the Seraphim martial soul. But he himself possessed the Seraphim too—and Bo Saixi, with her Sea God martial soul, had once been his first love. Their bloodlines were both top-tier. If they had a child, there was even a chance it could inherit both martial souls. Wouldn't that guarantee a future successor with dual martial souls and a divine-level talent suitable for inheriting the Angel God's position?
And in this place, with his robust physique and her current lack of power, Qian Daoliu could easily overpower her. Bo Saixi wouldn't be able to resist even if she wanted to.
But the thought was quickly banished. Qian Daoliu forcibly cast out the wicked notion of becoming some kind of Cave Douluo. Absolutely not. No way. As a devout follower of the Angel God, he would never commit an act that defiled the sacred dignity of the divine.
Still... Spirit Hall truly lacked talented female successors. Girls like Hu Liena and Tian Yao were decent, but if Qian Xunji dared to lay hands on them, Qian Daoliu would slap him across the face without hesitation.
On one side was the tantalizing prospect of producing a child with dual martial souls—possibly the next inheritor of the Angel God—and sharing intimacy with the woman who had once been, and perhaps still was, his first love. On the other side stood his faith in the Angel God, the conviction he had carried for decades. In the end, Qian Daoliu chose faith.
For one, Bo Saixi wasn't like Bibi Dong; she owed nothing to Spirit Hall. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to use the same cruel, forceful tactics as Qian Xunji. For another, while their generation had failed as Angel God inheritors, the Qian family still had descendants. And those descendants would have descendants—and descendants of descendants. One day, hope would return.
With this thought, Qian Daoliu let out a deep sigh, as if expelling all the grief he bore for failing the Angel God's legacy. He then lay down in his hammock, pulled a few palm leaves over himself as a blanket, and finally drifted off to sleep.
(End of Chapter)