Taixuan Holy Land had shown considerable care for Song Lingxue, specially establishing a separate residence for her and channeling a stream of the Spiritual Spring into it.
A Jade Pool, thirty feet square, was filled with Spirit Spring Water, circulating ceaselessly day and night.
Due to the influence of the natural environment, the water was extremely hot, which for a cultivator was just perfect, quickly relaxing numb muscles.
The thirty-foot square Jade Pool, even if two people bathed together, would not feel crowded in the slightest.
"How come you suddenly came to Taixuan? Could there be trouble? What about your parents?"
Song Lingxue's complexion, now three shades rosier, was laced with a touch of worry.
The words Geng Yiyang had spoken previously left her unsettled, and she harbored continuous concern for Chu Zheng's current situation.
The identity of a heretic cultivator was undoubtedly a great hidden danger; a slight misstep could lead to grave consequences.