Chen Ping led the three through the winding alleys, like a shadow moving through the cracks in the rocks, avoiding several patrolling groups of cultivators.

The golden lamps in the hands of the monks flashed past the alley entrance, and their footsteps hurriedly faded into the distance on the stone pavement.

He led them through the back window of an inn into an empty room. The window frame creaked very slightly, but he silently masked the sound with his chaotic power.

The room wasn’t big, but it was enough for four people to stay temporarily.

He closed the window, drew the curtains, and then raised his hands. Gray chaotic power surged from his palms, transforming into a layer of warm light that slowly enveloped Lan Yuan and the other two.

That layer of light, like an invisible veil, gently yet firmly adhered to their skin, slowly seeping into their meridians and dantian.

The moment that layer of light covered their skin, all three of them felt that the suffocating feeling of being suppressed and eroded by the laws of the heavens had been significantly reduced.