“What are you doing here? And… what happened to you?” Qin Lu asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

The man before him was tall and burly, his face chiseled and cold, radiating a natural stoicism. Yet now, that face was ghastly pale, and his aura was dangerously unstable.

It was none other than Qin Lu’s old neighbor from the Wuji Market—Nie Feng!

Nie Feng had clearly been in the White Jade Market for some time, so he wasn’t shocked to see Qin Lu. However, upon being recognized, a look of awkward hesitation crossed his face. He cupped his fists and bowed deeply.

“Greetings… Senior Qin.”

The title hung in the air, creating an invisible wall between them. Qin Lu paused, startled by the formality, but quickly recovered. He chuckled softly, stepped forward, and clapped Nie Feng on the shoulder.

“None of that. Come on, let’s find a place to sit.”

Nie Feng didn’t refuse. He turned and followed Qin Lu, his steps heavy.

Moments later, they were seated in a quiet corner of a teahouse.

Qin Lu poured a cup for Nie Feng, then one for himself. He blew gently on the steaming liquid, took a slow sip, and set the cup down.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Qin Lu said slowly, “you’re here as a refugee, aren’t you?”

Nie Feng’s tattered appearance mirrored the countless displaced cultivators flooding the city. It was obvious he was fleeing the war between the Wuji Sect and the Dragon Tiger Sect.

Nie Feng nodded silently, confirming the guess.

“How did you make it to the White Jade Market?” Qin Lu pressed. “What exactly happened back in Wuji? And these injuries… who did this to you?”

Faced with the barrage of questions, Nie Feng took a moment to organize his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was weary and hoarse.

“A while ago, the Dragon Tiger Sect launched a full-scale assault on the Wuji Market. We were caught off guard, but Market Master Li reacted fast. He activated the mountain-protecting formation just in time.”

Nie Feng gripped his teacup, his knuckles white.

“But the Dragon Tiger Sect came with the force of a tidal wave. They were relentless. Market Master Li issued a conscription order: all cultivators in the market had to defend the walls. Anyone who tried to flee would be executed on the spot. With my cultivation, I had no choice but to fight.”

He let out a bitter laugh.

“I was holding my position when a Late Foundation Establishment cultivator suddenly breached the line. Even with the defensive formation buffering the impact, the gap in power was too vast. A single exchange… just one blow, and I was crushed. I blacked out instantly.”

“When I woke up, the battle had been raging for days. The situation was hopeless. My own sect leader was dead. I saw the writing on the wall, so I snuck into a group of refugees. The moment the grand formation shattered, we ran.”

“We ran until our feet bled. Wandering, starving, dodging patrols… until finally, we made it here.”

As Nie Feng finished, the light in his eyes dimmed. The memories of the journey—the terror, the exhaustion, the corpses of friends left to rot by the roadside—weighed heavily on him.

Qin Lu nodded slowly. He had suspected as much, but hearing the brutal details confirmed the severity of the war.

“So,” Qin Lu asked after a pause, “why aren’t you resting? Your injuries are severe. Why are you wandering the streets at night?”

“I… I came out to buy pills.”

“Makes sense. You can’t delay treating those internal wounds, or they’ll cripple your foundation.”

“No.” Nie Feng looked up, a raw, desperate grief etched onto his face. “The pills aren’t for me. I need a life-saving elixir for a woman. If she doesn’t get treatment tonight… she won’t see the sunrise.”

Nie Feng suddenly stood up, abandoning all pride. He bowed deeply to Qin Lu, his voice trembling.

“Senior Qin, I beg you. For the sake of our past time as neighbors, please lend a hand. I, Nie Feng, will be eternally grateful!”

Qin Lu tapped the table thoughtfully. “What pill are you looking for?”

“A [Vitality Pill].”

“That pill again…” Qin Lu murmured, a flicker of recognition crossing his mind.

“Senior Qin… is it possible?” Nie Feng asked, his posture humble and pleading.

“Let’s go.” Qin Lu stood up, a reassuring smile on his face. “Take me to her. I’ll save her.”

Nie Feng’s face lit up with overwhelming relief. “This way, Senior! Please!”

The two men left the teahouse and headed toward the outskirts of the city, moving briskly through the night.

As they walked, Qin Lu gathered the details of Nie Feng’s relationship with this woman.

They had met in the refugee caravan, fleeing the ruins of Wuji Market together. She had originally been traveling with her father, but during a demon beast ambush, her father had been slaughtered.

Just as the beast turned on her, Nie Feng had intervened, saving her life at the cost of aggravating his own grievous wounds.

Old injuries compounded by new trauma, fueled by endless running—it was a miracle Nie Feng was still standing. A Qi Condensation cultivator, even at the ninth layer, had limits.

Yet, amidst the blood and despair, a bond had formed. Nie Feng, usually a cold loner, had developed a deep sense of protectiveness over her. They had relied on each other to survive, their shared trauma blossoming into something deeper.

The journey had been relatively smooth until they neared the White Jade Market. A pack of wolf demon beasts had ambushed them. Exhausted and injured, Nie Feng was a step too slow. The woman took a heavy hit.

That was why Nie Feng was desperate.

Hearing the story, Qin Lu sighed internally. Love really does make people do crazy things.

They passed through the city gates and entered the sprawling shantytown that had sprung up to house the refugees.

After the time it took for an incense stick to burn, they arrived at a dilapidated courtyard.

Nie Feng pushed open the gate. A pungent stench of medicinal herbs rolled out to meet them. Qin Lu glanced around the yard; it was a mess of scattered pots, broken jars, and debris.

In the corner of the room, a young woman lay on a makeshift bed.

She was buried under thick quilts, her black hair splayed across the pillow like spilled ink. Her features were delicate, but her face was the color of ash. Wisps of black death aura coiled around her brow. She was fading fast.

But when Qin Lu saw her face, he froze. His eyes widened in genuine surprise.

The world, it seemed, was incredibly small.

He knew her.

It was Ning Ning.

“Ning Ning?!” Qin Lu exclaimed.

“Huh? Senior knows Ning’er?” Nie Feng looked between them, confused.

Qin Lu shook his head, a wry smile touching his lips. “We’ve met a few times. Back in the day, during the arena competitions… I used to eat wontons at her father’s stall. I never expected this…”

“Then please, Senior! Save her!” Nie Feng bowed again, heavier this time.

“Relax. I’ve got this.”

Qin Lu didn’t waste time. He flipped his hand, retrieving a [Vitality Pill]. With a subtle manipulation of Qi, he floated the pill into Ning Ning’s mouth.

He placed a hand over her chest, not to touch, but to channel. A stream of pure, potent Spiritual Qi flowed from his fingertips, guiding the medicinal energy through her ravaged meridians, soothing the chaotic energies and nourishing her fading life force.

Nie Feng stood to the side, watching in silence, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

Looking at Qin Lu, he felt a profound sense of dislocation. The scenery remains, but the people have changed.

Back in the Wuji Market, Qin Lu had just been a neighbor—a green, mid-stage Qi Condensation Loose Cultivator. He was ordinary.

Now, less than two years later, he was a titan. A Foundation Establishment expert. A man who commanded respect in a bustling city. Rumor had it he had even slain a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.

It was incomprehensible. How had he bridged such a massive chasm in so little time?

While Nie Feng was lost in his thoughts, Qin Lu retracted his hand and turned around.

“Alright. The crisis has passed. She just needs to rest and recuperate now.”

Nie Feng snapped back to reality. He cupped his fists, his face solemn with gratitude. “Nie Feng thanks you, Senior!”

“We’re old acquaintances,” Qin Lu said, waving his hand dismissively. “Helping each other is only natural. No need for thanks.”

He paused, glancing around the squalid shack.

“You two are new here, and looking at this place… it’s not suitable for recovery. If you have nowhere else to go, come with me. We’re all survivors from Wuji.”

“Yes!” Nie Feng blurted out, ecstatic.