Without the caravan's baggage slowing them down, Gu Feng and Fang Feixue traveled swiftly on their light beams.

In no time, they returned to the camp.

In the camp, only a few vendors who stayed behind were tidying up the stoves and preparing dinner.@@novelbin@@

The Jiang family caravan had many low-level cultivators whose cultivation wasn't high enough to abstain from food and drink like mortals. They still needed to eat and rest daily to survive.

At this moment, Murong Ze was still pretending to be dead, with Jiang Chuyao by his side, her head resting against his face as she slept soundly.

Gu Feng smiled slightly, thinking that whether this guy was awake or not, he was probably feeling as sweet as if he'd eaten honey, so it was best not to disturb him.

As they passed by a tent, they saw the injured and unconscious Yan Wushuang.

His body was already wrapped in bandages, clearly the hurried work of the low-level cultivators from the caravan. Fortunately, his cultivation was deep, and although his body was severely injured, given enough time, he could slowly recover.

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