The distant, howling screeches of nocturnal beasts echoed through the petrified trunks of the Whispering Woods, serving as a cheerful, atmospheric reminder that everything in this biome viewed them as a late-night snack.
But nestled securely within the hollowed-out root system of an ancient spirit-banyan tree, a different, domestic atmosphere had been established.
Lin Ji'an sat cross-legged on a thick, waterproof tarp she had pulled from her spatial ring, stirring a bubbling pot of Five-Spice Demonic Serpent Stew.
Across the small, contained, smokeless spirit-coal fire sat Shen Zechuan.
The Sect Leader's supposedly corrupted, terrifyingly lethal Senior Apprentice was currently using a small, jagged rock to happily carve a smiley face into the side of a glowing blue mushroom.
He was entirely covered in dried mud and serpent blood.
His pristine white silk robes were effectively ruined, looking like a discarded painter's drop-cloth.
And he looked radiantly delighted.
