Fang Yuan's hand brushed against Lin Zhaoyue's collarbone and then he froze as he felt a flicker, faint fragile pulse of qi.
It was barely a heartbeat long, but he could feel it and his eyes instantly widened as the realization hit him like lightning.
Lin Zhaoyue was a Nascent soul realm cultivator and a Nascent Soul cultivator's spirit did not fade easily.
Unless her soul had been completely obliterated, she still had a chance to be revived, a sliver, but a chance nonetheless.
Without another thought, he scooped her into his arms, her blood soaking through the front of his robe.
The Blazing Fang Dagger clattered against his boot, he picked it up and slipped it at her side, the gift she'd guarded even in death.
"Don't you dare die on me now, woman," he muttered, voice low but edged with strain.
"I need you to take care of all my future paperworks."
With a sharp exhale, he pulled back, gathered qi beneath his feet, and shot into the sky.
