The tyrant's carriage broke down, and Qinglang Sword Saint, having heard the news, dared not come himself.

He then sent his own unworthy disciple, who hurriedly delivered a new carriage.

Shen Jiao secretly breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Ji Yan get into the carriage looking rather unhappy.

Fortunately, the tyrant was only acting on a whim and didn't actually enjoy asking her to hug him.

Otherwise, I'll have to trouble my junior apprentice to arrange ten carriages.

The group, who had originally planned to set off at dawn, dawdled for more than an hour before finally setting off.

As Shen Jiao left the Cloud Mist Sword Pavilion, she looked at the disciples who kept waving and wishing them a safe journey, and felt a little dazed.

It feels like leveling up by fighting monsters, plus finding clues to complete the game.

But it's not quite the same as the indifference shown when playing games.

She came into this world alone, and through a series of coincidences, she gradually formed many not-so-bad bonds.

As Shen Jiao pondered, she played with the black jade shaped like a trumpet vine at her waist.

This is a token that signifies her status as the leader of the martial arts alliance, and it was also something that Old Man Qinglang dug out from under the table.

When she first dug it out, the jade pendant was covered in dust, and she didn't know where to start.

The table, after wobbling for a while, finally broke into firewood.

After playing with the jade pendant for a while, Shen Jiao took it off and put it into the small purse that Xi Su had embroidered for her.

I don't know what I'll encounter on this trip, and it's really inconvenient to bring my two mahjong friends, Xi Su and Xi Ning, along.

The two were then escorted back to the imperial palace by Li Wanglai.

Ji Yan stared at the ruffled hamster's cautious movements: "What are you doing?"

Shen Jiao told the truth: "The jade pendant is hidden."

It's said that the taller the tree, the more the wind will blow. If she happens to run into some combative martial arts fanatics who chase after her and challenge her, it wouldn't be good.

Although the leader of the martial arts alliance is very arrogant, it is always easy for a high-ranking leader to be assassinated.

She didn't want to become a sitting duck because of a stone used to prop up the table.

The tyrant lay on the soft seat, his wide black robes spread out like a fan, exuding an indescribable languor.

Upon hearing this, he did not say much, nor did he ask Shen Jiao not to do so.

There was no order requiring her to wear it 24 hours a day.

He leaned lazily against the car wall, his eyelids drooping, his long, dark eyelashes slightly lowered, casting a gray shadow under his eyes.

He doesn't look well.

Shen Jiao generally doesn't like to initiate conversations with tyrants, because they usually can't keep up with the conversation.

But his half-dead state made her wonder if she had thrown him too hard, causing him to strain his back or twist his ribs.

When Ji Yan is in a rage, he's like a crazed, bloodthirsty demon; it feels like even hundreds or thousands of Taoist priests working together couldn't subdue him.

When she calms down, she becomes inexplicably well-behaved.

Perhaps because its skin was too pale and bloodless, with its bluish veins clearly visible, it appeared somewhat fragile.

It is well known that good-looking faces are often very deceptive.

So, Shen Jiao took the initiative to greet the landlord: "Your Majesty, are you feeling unwell?"

"Hmm?" Ji Yan lifted her eyelids with an inscrutable expression.

He's just a little sleepy because he hasn't been sleeping lately.

The tyrant's eyes were deep, as if he was trying to guess what the frizzy hamster was imagining and why it would ask such a question.

How could he be uncomfortable?

I'll never feel uncomfortable in this lifetime!

Just as Ji Yan was about to say something, the carriage suddenly jolted and the curtain was lifted.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, falling precisely under the cushion and revealing a corner of the book on the table.

Ji Yan took out the book and turned to the second page without changing her expression.

Perhaps out of consideration for the tyrant's reputation, the Sword Saint of Qinglang made the cover of this book, "108 Little Tricks to Win a Girl's Heart," very meticulous.

Looking at it from this angle, Shen Jiao assumed it was a profound and difficult ancient book and had no interest in asking about it.

She was afraid that if she asked any more questions, the three-year-old princess would think she loved learning.

She has already been drained of her mental energy by participating in this martial arts tournament. If she were to attend another strange cram school, she might not be able to handle it.

Ji Yan guessed what the hamster was thinking, and that's why she looked at it openly and without any reservations.

The second page reads—

"The first step in showing weakness is to feign illness and whine to ask for care, thereby gaining her sympathy, arousing her compassion, and touching her heart!"

To win a girl's heart, you have to make her understand that she is the one who can save you!

"Leave her, and you will die!"

Ji Yan: "..."

What kind of brain-damaged garbage is this?

The tyrant's face quickly darkened, and he silently shoved the book inside, trying to avoid seeing it and getting annoyed.

Shen Jiao suddenly realized that her guess was correct; this was indeed a profound and difficult-to-understand ancient book!

She should never read books that even top students can't finish.

The tyrant looked extremely unwell, and Shen Jiao asked again, "Your Majesty, are you feeling unwell?"

After all, her head would throb whenever she looked at a physics book.

Similarly, tyrants often have some minor flaws when reading ancient books.

Ji Yan's lips curled slightly, then suddenly she let out a weak "hmm" that was barely audible.

He wanted to see how the frizzy hamster would take care of him.

That sounds pretty serious.

Shen Jiao's expression hardened.

He immediately jumped off the car at the speed of an 800-meter sprint.

Then, at an 800-meter sprint speed, they carried Liang Heng, who was dozing off, over.

Liang Heng: "???" Who am I? Where am I?

Shen Jiao said in a deep voice, "Brother Liang, wake up! Wake up quickly! Even a second more of sleep could lead to tragedy. Your Majesty, look how seriously ill he is."

Ji Yan: "..."

Qinglang is doomed!

Meanwhile, far away in the Cloud Mist Sword Pavilion, the Azure Lang Sword Saint sneezed several times in a row.

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