Read Novel Full Rescuing the Beautiful and Strong yet Miserable Second Lead Character Chapter 25 part1
Rescuing the Beautiful and Strong yet Miserable Second Lead Character Chapter 25 part1
Another quarter of an hour passed before Ling Qingxiao returned to Qianyang Gate—and this time, he was accompanied by a woman dressed in white.
Luo Han looked completely drained. The morning wind only made her feel even more tired and sluggish.
Zhongshan stood high above the clouds, and with the sun yet to rise, the early morning breeze was downright freezing.
She glanced down at the time and nearly broke down. “It’s barely past six. Are you insane, dragging me out this early?”
“It’s already the beginning of the Mao hour. Even the lower-ranked disciples are finishing their morning lessons,” Ling Qingxiao replied sternly. “Just this once—but from tomorrow onward, you are not allowed to be this late. You must arrive at Qianyang Gate by at least a quarter past Mao hour.”
Luo Han hugged her arms tightly, feeling like this lifestyle was even harsher than her third year of high school. She trudged up the steps behind Ling Qingxiao, grumbling under her breath, “The sun’s not even up… this is way too early…”
Ling Qingxiao ignored Luo Han’s complaints. He simply raised his hand, slender and fair fingers pointing eastward, and said calmly, “The sun has already risen.”
Luo Han turned to look. The sea of clouds in the east was already tinged with crimson, and in the blink of an eye, a round sun suddenly leapt above the clouds, as if it had been waiting for its cue. Within moments, it was fully risen.
She instinctively raised a hand to shield her eyes from the dazzling light. Standing beside her, Ling Qingxiao lowered his voice and said, “Let’s go.”
Luo Han nodded and followed him through the gates of Qianyang.
Sure enough, by the time they arrived, the disciples practicing swordsmanship had already finished their morning lesson. They stood in small groups scattered around the plaza. When they spotted Ling Qingxiao, a few nudged each other from a distance, but not a single one dared approach or speak to him.
Unlike the ordinary disciples, Ling Qingxiao didn’t have to train in the plaza. He had his own private cultivation grounds.
He led Luo Han all the way to the edge of a cliff. Just as she was about to ask where they were going, he formed a hand seal, and—before her eyes—stone platforms began to rise one after another from the sea of clouds. They varied in size and shape, forming a winding path into the depths of the clouds. At the very end of the path floated a massive, inverted-cone-shaped boulder.
Luo Han stared at the scene in surprise. After summoning the Floating Cloud Platform, Ling Qingxiao took a step back and gestured for her to go first.
A floating stone hovered right at the edge of the cliff. Luo Han cautiously stepped onto it and was surprised by how solid it felt. If not for the fact that it was clearly suspended in the clouds, she could’ve sworn she was still standing on solid ground.
Once on the stone, she looked ahead. The next floating platform was about a meter and a half away. She fell silent.
“…What happens if I miss a step?”
Ling Qingxiao deactivated the barrier and replied calmly, “You fall, of course.”
Luo Han sucked in a breath through her teeth. “You could’ve told me that before I got on.”
But Ling Qingxiao, ever patient, didn’t rush her. “You’ve learned the flight technique. Even if you fall, just fly back up.”
Was that even something a normal person would say?
Luo Han cautiously glanced down at the clouds beneath her feet—and instantly felt dizzy. “…I think I’ve developed a new problem. I’m afraid of heights.”
“No matter,” Ling Qingxiao replied with his usual calm indifference. “It can be cured with practice. Theories are useless without action. You learned the Light Body Technique yesterday—today’s the perfect time to put it to use.”
He paused briefly, then added in the same flat tone, “I told you to memorize the incantation last night. You did, didn’t you?”
Luo Han nearly choked. Heaven knows—she did memorize it last night! But how was she supposed to know that one day after learning it, she’d already be thrown into the real thing?
She silently began reciting the Light Body Technique in her head. Twice. Still didn’t feel confident. She was the Heavenly Dao, for heaven’s sake. The Bodhi Tree and who-knows-what-else had gone through all that trouble to send her back to save the world.
And if she slipped and died while jumping rocks? What a humiliating end that would be.
Luo Han inhaled. Exhaled. Took her time gathering courage—yet remained completely still.
Even someone as patient as Ling Qingxiao was starting to waver. “What are you waiting for?”
“I’m mentally preparing,” Luo Han said with utmost seriousness. “This is a life-or-death matter. I can’t afford to be careless.”
He had never seen her this determined when studying. Ling Qingxiao let out a soft sigh, a little exasperated. “You’ll be fine. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
He was standing right there—did she really think he’d let her fall? This was just his way of pushing her to take things seriously.
But Luo Han seemed a little too immersed in the role. It was just two steps, yet she was moving like she was crossing a minefield.
Only after triple-checking that she’d memorized the incantation correctly—no skipped words, no missing syllables—did she cautiously leap forward.
As the name implied, the Light Body Technique made one’s body feel lighter, allowing leaps of up to ten meters. Back in the modern world, Luo Han had average athletic ability—not great, not terrible, just your typical girl-next-door level.
But this time, with just the light tap of her toe, she floated effortlessly across the meter-and-a-half gap. It felt no harder than taking a regular step.
She glanced back in surprise. That… was actually kind of amazing.
Ling Qingxiao stood calmly at the edge of the cliff, his patience unwavering. He gave her a slight nod, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
With a bit more confidence now, Luo Han began to leap forward, one floating stone at a time. The gaps between the stones gradually widened, and before each jump, she paused to calculate, to assess, to make absolutely sure she could make it.
She was, quite literally, embodying the spirit of survival: proceed with extreme caution.
It was obvious—this girl was really afraid of dying.
Behind her, Ling Qingxiao let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh.
Luo Han, however, didn’t see it that way. In her mind, she wasn’t being scared—she was being careful. She was the Heavenly Dao now. As long as the Six Realms didn’t suddenly spiral into chaos, and as long as Ling Qingxiao didn’t randomly decide to end the world, she could live as long as heaven and earth itself. Eternal life, endless blessings—basically a cheat code for cosmic longevity.
She didn’t need to strive or struggle. She just had to stay alive and that alone would be her victory.
In short, if her life philosophy could be summed up in one word… it was survive.
Luo Han was so focused on using the Light Body Technique that she didn’t realize how far she’d come. It wasn’t until she looked around that she noticed the silence—no footsteps, no voices. Startled, she glanced back and realized she’d already covered half the distance.
Surrounded by swirling mist, the clouds drifted lazily around her, making her sleeves flutter with the wind. An uneasy feeling crept over her.
Where was Ling Qingxiao?
Logically, she knew—knew—that as long as Ling Qingxiao was around, she’d never really be in danger. But logic was one thing and seeing he wasn’t there was another. Instinctively, her heart began to race.
She stared into the endless white fog and called out tentatively, “Ling Qingxiao?”
No answer. Only silence.
Just as she was beginning to feel more uneasy, a sharp shard of ice suddenly shot out from the mist, aiming straight for her. Startled, Luo Han yelped and immediately activated the Light Body Technique, leaping to the next floating stone.
But before she could even catch her breath, another shard came flying—then another.
A calm, cold voice echoed from within the clouds: “Focus. Don’t let your mind wander.”
Luo Han barely managed to dodge another strike, stumbling onto the next stone. She had no time to second-guess her incantation or double-check her stance. Fear took over—she leapt the moment her feet touched solid ground.
With no chance to hesitate, her intervals between each use of the Light Body Technique shrank drastically. The oncoming barrage of ice left no room for doubt or delay.
In her mind, Luo Han was furiously cursing. Ling Qingxiao, you devil! You’re not even pretending to be human!
She scrambled forward in a panic, but suddenly realized—she was now casting the Light Body Technique smoothly and without hesitation. At some point, it had become second nature.
Just then, the barrage of ice shards finally stopped. Relieved, Luo Han let out a breath and shouted, “Time out! I need a break!”
Ling Qingxiao emerged from the swirling mist behind her, graceful as ever. His robes billowed around him, his movements slow and effortless—but his speed was anything but.
He landed on a floating stone beside her and sighed. “It’s barely been a moment, and you again needed a break?”
“It’s not again, it’s called balancing work and rest,” Luo Han shot back, completely shameless. She knew the key to dealing with someone like Ling Qingxiao was to push the limits. As long as she had the thick skin to ask, there was nothing a cold and stoic guy like him could really do to stop her.
Luo Han thought today would go just like before. She made her request, and as usual, Ling Qingxiao didn’t respond so she assumed that meant he had silently agreed.
But slowly, a hint of doubt crept across her face.
“…Is the formation malfunctioning? Why does it feel like the stone under my feet is moving?”
Ling Qingxiao’s expression remained calm, utterly composed as always.
Luo Han looked up and met his eyes—and immediately, a terrible sense of foreboding washed over her. “No way… don’t tell me you—”
Luo Han didn’t even get to finish her sentence before the stone beneath her feet suddenly dropped. With a loud shriek, she collapsed ungracefully to her knees, clinging desperately to the edge of the floating platform.
Ling Qingxiao sighed, two or three stones away from her, and called out in exasperation, “Get up. What kind of posture is that?”
But Luo Han couldn’t care less about appearances—she shook her head furiously and clung on for dear life.
Seeing no other choice, Ling Qingxiao guided another stone over, gently nudging it toward her to force her into action.
Luo Han was nearly in tears. Doesn’t the Immortal Realm have a baby beast protection agency or something? This guy is getting more outrageous by the day—why is no one stopping him?!
She ended up scrambling between the floating stones, using both hands and feet in pure survival mode. The worst part? Every single platform was shifting—up, down, side to side—completely unpredictable. Not one was stable.
Luo Han had to stay hyper-focused, running the Light Body Technique nonstop and bracing to leap at any moment.
It was the longest fifteen minutes of her entire life.
***