But Han Yu only cast one cold glance in the direction of the girls.
It was enough.
All their hope froze instantly. One of the girls nearly dropped a plate. Another lowered her head so quickly her forehead almost touched the floor. None dared to meet his gaze again.
To them, that look alone felt like a crushing wave of intimidation. To Han Yu, it was simply disinterest.
He had seen enough peerless beauties to be unmoved by mortal girls. And even if he had not, he would never indulge while wearing Ju Fan's identity and while carrying the burden of rescuing his companions. Every hour counted.
The girls finished cleaning in silence and scurried out, bowing several times before closing the door gently behind them.
Han Yu exhaled, but he did not sleep. Sleeping in an unfamiliar village, especially when Zhao Liumen might have already sent someone, would be foolish. Instead, he sat cross legged on the wooden floor and began cultivating.
