Chapter Seventy: Yi Xiaoxian

“So painful...” Lin Fan felt himself plunged into utter darkness, unable to see his own hands before his face; his head ached so fiercely it was as if it were about to split open.

Not long after, a sliver of sunlight broke through the sky, dazzlingly bright. Lin Fan’s body was soaked in an icy river, the blood on him long since washed clean, making him look like nothing more than a common man who had slipped and fallen into the water by accident.

His clothes were tattered, resembling those of a beggar, and after being submerged for so long, his whole body was swollen, strands of moss clinging to his garments.

Suddenly, his fingers twitched, his body shuddered, and Lin Fan’s eyes flew open.

“Where am I?” he murmured, glancing around at the idyllic scene filled with birdsong and the fragrance of flowers.

“This can’t be Heaven’s Gate. It seems I managed to escape with my life, but the price was steep—Prison Heaven has fallen into slumber, and my physical body is gravely wounded. It clearly couldn’t withstand the backlash of that passage. No wonder Prison Heaven warned me that it was a path of certain death.”

He climbed out of the river, piecing together the chain of events with a chill of lingering fear. If not for Prison Heaven’s secret art, he would have perished at Heaven’s Gate.

What consoled Lin Fan was that, with the aid of the stone fragment, the wounds on his body had completely healed, leaving him only somewhat weakened.

At this moment, he noticed the stone fragment again. He had nearly forgotten it amid the chaos of Prison Heaven’s appearance, but in his most desperate hour, the fragment had not failed him. Otherwise, the mere backlash from the passage would have torn him to pieces.

“That was close. I’ll remember this grudge. None of you will escape me in the future.”

His heart was filled with hatred; all of this had happened because Duanmu Ci had acted against him in secret. Otherwise, he would not have been reduced to such a state.

Originally, his merits would have been enough to make him an inner disciple, perhaps even ranking among the top three, earning a drop of True Dragon’s Blood with ease. Yet now, everything was lost, his opportunity snatched away.

Just then, Lin Fan staggered, his head splitting with pain and his body weak. He crashed heavily to the ground and fell unconscious once more, but before losing consciousness, he vaguely glimpsed several figures in the distance.

“Sister, there’s someone here. He seems to have fainted.”

A figure appeared—a girl of eleven or twelve, with delicate features and dressed in plain linen. She looked utterly ordinary, though she carried a longbow in her hand, resembling a young hunter from the mountains.

Following her was a slightly older girl, their faces strikingly similar. Their attire was just as plain, but there was an ethereal quality about the older one, as if untouched by the mundane world.

“Little Nu, he’s probably a hunter from these mountains, likely attacked by a wild beast. To save a life is to build a seven-story pagoda of merit. Let’s help him.”

The Yi sisters were no strangers to hunting in the mountains, but this was the first time they had come across an injured man. After a brief exchange, they decided to carry him home.

A warm liquid trickled into his mouth, and Lin Fan drank greedily. Slowly, he awoke.

“Who are you?” Lin Fan asked, his gaze falling on a face that seemed faintly familiar: Yi Xiaoxian, the eldest daughter of the Yi family.

“You fainted. I brought you here,” Yi Xiaoxian replied with a gentle smile, her presence as refreshing as a spring breeze. There was a natural grace about her that was quietly captivating.

“Thank you, miss. May I ask where I am?” Lin Fan quickly pieced together what must have happened—clearly, he owed his life to the young woman before him.

“This is the Taiwu Mountains, nestled within the Ancient Buddha Domain. I found you in the Five Peaks Ravine...” Yi Xiaoxian brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and spoke in a melodious voice.

Unconsciously, half an hour passed, and Lin Fan learned all that had transpired. Coupled with his own deductions, he had surmised most of the truth.

“If I’m not mistaken, that secret art of Prison Heaven must have transported me to the Ancient Buddha Domain. I never imagined I would be sent so far,” Lin Fan thought in shock. He knew well what this place was—far from the Tianwu Domain, at the very edge of the Shuntian Prefecture. There were even rumors that the Ancient Buddha Domain was once a sacred ground of the ancient Buddhist sects.

“Miss Xiaoxian, if not for your help, I would have become a wild beast’s meal. This debt is greater than the sky itself; I will repay it one day.”

Lin Fan’s gratitude was heartfelt. The grace of saving one’s life outweighed all else—just like with Yun Xi. Even though it was because of her that he had been drawn into this turmoil, he never hesitated, for Yun Xi had once saved his life.

“It’s nothing, truly. I only did a small favor, not worth mentioning. You needn’t be concerned,” Yi Xiaoxian replied, waving her hand with a gentle air. Her very nature matched her name—otherworldly, soothing all those around her.

“A life-saving debt can’t be dismissed so lightly, but there’s nothing more to say now. If you ever have need of me, I will lay down my life without hesitation.”

Lin Fan smiled. Never before had he met a woman so unconcerned with reward. Among cultivators, personal gain always came first, and even the closest relationships often ended in disputes over profit.

Whether it was Yun Xi, Gu Renfeng, or the others, it was always the same. Lin Fan had made few true friends—Feng Yu perhaps counted, though he was too obsessed with fame and fortune; Chen Daolin as well, though his status set him apart, preventing a true meeting of hearts. Yi Xiaoxian, however, was different. Such a temperament was ill-suited to the path of cultivation, but perfect for a confidante.

“No more talk of this. Rest well. I can tell you are a cultivator—recover your strength quickly.”

Yi Xiaoxian shook her head, saying nothing more. She rose gracefully to her feet and departed, leaving Lin Fan with the image of her exquisite silhouette.

“What an extraordinary woman. But without a protector, such a temperament will only bring her misfortune.”

Lin Fan gazed after her, stunned. He had never met someone quite like her before. If it could be called affection, it was not yet love—just a fascination.

“But enough of that. Even with the help of the stone fragment, I won’t recover quickly—at least half a month. With the Yin-Yang Pills, perhaps I can hasten the process.”

He muttered to himself, noticing that his storage pouch was intact by his pillow, untouched.

A flash of light, and a small vial appeared in his hand—the Yin-Yang Pills he had acquired through many battles, now in ample supply. At this moment, Lin Fan’s resources were considerable, not inferior to those of an ordinary Pulse Condensation cultivator.

“First, I’ll heal my wounds; then, with the help of the Demon God Crystal, step into the Pulse Condensation Realm...”

His eyes gleamed, all traces of hatred well concealed within.