In the midst of the chaotic clash of swords and blades, Tao Mian's face was illuminated to a pure white.

He was always like the untouched moon suspended in the sky, pure as snow, never tainted by the mundane world. Rong Zheng clutched that tree branch as if it were a lifeline, pulling her out of the quagmire of the past time and again.

"Little Tao..."

"I initially planned to let you vent your anger," Tao Mian said, supporting his disciple's uninjured shoulder and guiding her around to avoid the cold sword from the right front. "If I don't allow you to fight, you'll definitely throw a tantrum when we return."

The peach branch deflected a long knife, striking precisely at the wrists of the two shadow guards. They couldn't help but cry out in pain. What seemed like light taps were actually incredibly powerful, leaving them unable to grip their weapons, which clattered to the ground.

"Then no one would cook, and no one would chop wood. We, as Shi Fu and disciple, would have to endure the cold and hunger, drinking the northwest wind."

The Immortal faced the six shadow guards with far more composure than his disciple, able to chat leisurely while handling them.@@novelbin@@

"We agreed not to overuse spiritual power; today's limit is just this much. Any more, and your wounds will start to hurt. Once we return to the mountain, you can't sulk with me again."

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