Chapter Seventy-Three: Why Are You Apologizing?

Zhang Ning stared speechlessly at Han Zhifei, inwardly thinking, Senior Brother, aren't you being too much? Even if we haven't reached a mutual understanding, nothing has happened without my consent! And even if there were feelings, shouldn't we get Master's approval first? Are we really going to do this to our Master?

While these thoughts swirled in his mind, Zhang Ning found his mouth glued shut, unable to utter a single word.

Han Zhifei frowned as he watched the silent Zhang Ning for a moment; his tone softened, no longer as cold and hard as before, as if he were making a great effort to reassure Zhang Ning patiently. "Matters like this require diligence. It's rare for me to be at your side, Junior Brother—how can you not seize this opportunity? Or do you wish to wait until we're back at the sect and let Master handle it personally?"

Zhang Ning could only curse the destruction of the outer space of his storage ring, the loss of his dagger. If he still had it, he'd have stabbed this senior brother in the kidney by now! He couldn't imagine what Han Zhifei was thinking. It was said that he had recently broken through to the Martial Emperor realm; as for talent and hard work, Han Zhifei was unparalleled. But, Senior Brother, could you at least act like a decent person?

Yet, the mention of Master brought a flood of memories to Zhang Ning's mind—how Master had carried him the first time they met in the bustling city, and later, in the vast mountains, he had carried Master in return. At that time, Master... Stop! Stop! Zhang Ning's face flushed a bright red, and in a near-hysterical voice, he cried, "No, no! Only Master, only Master is off limits! I—"

Han Zhifei was taken aback by Zhang Ning's loss of composure, then unexpectedly let out a soft laugh, his gaze turning gentle. "Alright, it was my impatience, Xiao Ning. If you feel now isn't the right time to proceed, then it's perfectly fine to wait. Since you haven't hit a bottleneck, I truly shouldn't force you."

Hearing this, Zhang Ning's face turned all shades between green and white. He realized he might have made a huge mistake. "Senior Brother, what were you actually doing just now?"

Han Zhifei looked puzzled. "Don't you know? You broke through far too quickly, Junior Brother. Some impurities in your body wouldn't have had time to be expelled. If they accumulate, it's all harm and no good. At times like this, it's proper for someone else to help circulate energy, clearing areas where impurities tend to linger."

Zhang Ning made a sound of acknowledgment, fell silent for a moment, and then asked, "So, where do these impurities tend to accumulate?"

Han Zhifei replied, "It depends on the cultivation technique. For our sect's Cloud Meditation of the Grand Freedom Devil Sect, impurities build up at the intersections of the twelve main meridians—that is, where the yin and yang meridians meet at the extremities of the hands and feet. The yang meridians of the same name meet at the head and face, and the yin meridians join at the heart, chest, and lungs..."

Before Han Zhifei could finish, he was abruptly interrupted by Zhang Ning's sudden action. Zhang Ning dropped to the floor, prostrating himself before Han Zhifei in the manner of a tiger pouncing to the ground, and cried out, "I'm sorry, Senior Brother!"

Now it was Han Zhifei's turn to fall silent for a while. "What happened, Xiao Ning? Why are you apologizing?"

Half an hour later

Zhang Ning adjusted the temperature of the medicinal water while listening to his senior brother's endless explanations, rolling his eyes inwardly. Good heavens, what did I ever do to deserve this? Third Senior Brother's meticulous nature was one thing, but Fourth Senior Brother was supposed to be the taciturn, handsome type—how did he become so long-winded as well?

Ever since the misunderstanding had been cleared up, Fourth Senior Brother had fallen silent for a while, then concluded that Zhang Ning's confusion stemmed from his lack of familiarity with the meridians and other basic knowledge, and so began a relentless lecture. Zhang Ning knew he desperately needed to brush up on the basics, but these things required accumulation and subtle understanding over time; cramming wasn't going to help much. Yet Han Zhifei, against his usual nature, wouldn't stop talking, making Zhang Ning suspect that today his senior brother had spoken more than he had in the past month combined.

Zhang Ning asked, "So I still have to soak the places where the twelve meridian tendons converge?"

Han Zhifei had meant to simply nod, but considering Zhang Ning's circumstances, he asked, "Xiao Ning, do you remember where those convergence points are?"

Zhang Ning shuddered all over, standing there in a daze.

Why is there a pop quiz? Please, spare me!

Han Zhifei shook his head, uncharacteristically tempted to sigh, and said helplessly, "Junior Brother, just take your pants off for now."

Only then did Zhang Ning recall the answer to the question.

But before Zhang Ning could reply, a loud crash came from the doorway as someone burst in. Both turned to look and saw Han Zun—the one who had previously saved Zhang Ning's life—standing there, still exuding that swaggering air of 'Heaven is first, I am second,' but now with a clear, unmistakable anger. He narrowed his eyes at Han Zhifei.

Instantly understanding the reason behind Han Zun's expression, Zhang Ning felt like a total fool, unable to think of any way to explain the situation. He could only watch as Han Zun gave a brazen sneer and mocked, "Who would have thought that the illustrious Grand Freedom Devil Sect, a sacred land of sorts, would also be a den of filth and corruption!" His voice was so clear and firm that there was no mistaking what he meant.

The moment Han Zun finished speaking, Han Zhifei dropped the loquacious, monk-like demeanor he'd had moments before and became once more the blood-soaked, murderous youth Zhang Ning had first encountered.

Han Zhifei declared, "Whoever insults my sect—dies!" Without another word, he drew his blade and charged at Han Zun, each strike heavy and forceful, the very aftershocks tearing the room to shreds! Han Zun didn't just evade; he whipped out his pair of daggers and immediately entangled Han Zhifei, his footwork from the Xuanming Palace swift and agile, making his movements resemble a fierce, clawed cat.

Both moved at inhuman speed. Zhang Ning couldn't even follow their actions, only hearing the clash of weapons ringing to the heavens, making his heart race with dread. He was no longer a novice in martial arts, and the familiar, chilling killing intent radiating from the two... could it be...

"Senior Brother! Han Zun! It's all a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding! Stop, stop fighting!!" Zhang Ning shouted at the top of his lungs, but neither of them paid him the slightest heed. They both let loose, truly fighting in earnest.