Elder Qin slumped against the jade wall, clutching his chest where the paste was still burning warmly.
He looked up at Ji'an, his eyes filled with a complex, agonising mix of gratitude for saving his life and an absolute, unyielding desire to see her banished to the farthest corners of the mortal realm.
"This incident," Elder Qin rasped, his voice weak but laced with absolute venom. "This... vulgar display. It never leaves this room. If a single whisper of this reaches the other peaks... I will personally ensure your vocal cords are frozen."
"Oh, please," Ji'an scoffed, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill. "You think I want the sect to know I accidentally bathed with a three-hundred-year-old man? I have a reputation to uphold. As far as I'm concerned, this entire afternoon never happened. It is buried. Deep. Under six feet of concrete."
