Gan Ruǎnruǎn had lived a rather fulfilling life—
“Another round!”
She stretched her fair, elegant neck and shouted, grabbing a wine bottle and charging forward.
Her opponent was a burly man over two and a half meters tall, with dark skin and a bristling beard.
His body was so muscled it looked as if it was built of bricks—absurdly sturdy—and he radiated an aura nearly at the level of the Six Harmonies Stage!
Veins bulged all over the man’s body as he glared furiously at Gan Ruǎnruǎn.
Then, with a thud, he dropped to his knees.
“Granny, what exactly do you want?!”
“Nothing in particular.” Gan Ruǎnruǎn smashed the bottle on his head, glass flying.
The man’s head split open on the spot.
“Aaaah—”
Unable to bear it any longer, the burly man called his drinking buddies to gang up on the young woman again.
Once more, sword energy danced wildly through the Tavern, and all manner of things were smashed into chaos everywhere.
Not a single bystander in the Tavern could avoid getting caught up in it.
Everyone joined forces to chase after the girl, but she darted and twisted between tables, chairs, and benches, taking advantage of her small size—appearing here with a sudden bottle, striking there with an unexpected club.
Her face was full of excitement, as if she delighted in stirring up trouble.
Bottles clinked and crashed as she provoked and incited all around, apparently fighting without any real purpose—merely relishing this dance on the edge of death.
Unfortunately, this time she had messed with someone she shouldn’t have.
She smashed a bottle over the head of a male cultivator sitting in a corner—a cultivator at the Qiyao Realm.
The moment the bottle landed, Gan Ruǎnruǎn was grabbed by the tail.
“Get lost!”
The cultivator stood up and, like kicking a ball, sent Gan Ruǎnruǎn flying out with a swift kick to her backside.
Jiang Ke’er looked on speechlessly as Gan Ruǎnruǎn was kicked out of the Tavern for the Nth time, but the girl simply dusted off her clothes and turned to charge right back in.
“Let it go, Flat-Top Sis.” The onlookers held their foreheads and advised.
“No way! He just said Zhang Dàtǔ sings badly!” Gan Ruǎnruǎn said angrily.
“…Who’s Zhang Dàtǔ?” The bystanders exchanged glances.
“How should I know!” Gan Ruǎnruǎn said, hands on her hips, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth.
She stamped her foot and rushed into the Tavern again.
Unfortunately, when she was thrown out once more, her head was full of bumps and she’d lost consciousness.
“…”
Jiang Ke’er hadn’t planned on getting involved with such an obviously troublesome character, but since they were both members of the Demon Race, it seemed unwise to just leave her on the street and let some unpleasant plot unfold.
So she hauled the girl up.
She could have revived the girl on the spot, but Jiang Ke’er figured that the first thing Gan Ruǎnruǎn would do upon waking was charge right back into the Tavern to get beaten again, so she brought her back to the Hotel.
To treat her injuries, Jiang Ke’er had to remove the girl’s clothes.
She found that the girl’s body was covered in scars—apparently, today’s events were far from unusual for her.
What was truly miraculous was her astonishing recovery.
The wounds she’d just received were healing at a pace visible to the naked eye…
This must be her confidence for always stirring up trouble.
But the healing was not complete, so Jiang Ke’er took the opportunity to clean up all the old injuries on her body, and casually cast Appraisal Technique.
【Gan Ruǎnruǎn】
【Demon Race – Weasel Family – Honey Badger】
Oh, no wonder.
Jiang Ke’er recalled Qiao Xiaoxian mentioning the Honey Badger race before.
Legend had it they were once an enormous clan in ancient times, one of the Demon Race’s finest warrior tribes.
But they died out—because they loved courting death too much.
The Honey Badger’s natural disposition was renowned far and wide: they loved challenging utterly mismatched opponents.
Though their bodies were about the size of an ordinary fox, they would pick fights with lions and tigers every day.
Even before they could take human form, they’d sneak up on lions, tigers, or hyenas for a bite.
After taking human form, they remained just as reckless… Immortals? What do they taste like? Are they sweet?
They simply had no concept of fear. Life and death were nothing—they’d fight anything if it refused to back down.
Jiang Ke’er dressed the girl again, looking at the unique white fringe typical of Weasel Family creatures, finding it all rather amusing.
She even felt an urge to swap her head for another.
Luckily, before she could act on that impulse, the girl woke up.
“Ah, that was great! Haven’t felt this good in ages. Feels like I wasn’t even hurt. I really am awesome!”
The girl stretched lazily, then noticed Jiang Ke’er: “Who are you? Another kind soul who saved me? Not bad, you saved the right person! From today onward, Gan Ruǎnruǎn will have your back!”
She was obviously used to this—this wasn’t her first time being knocked out and tossed aside.
Still having both kidneys was already quite something… Wait, hang on, did she only have one kidney left?
Too naive—someone had clearly already made a move.
The reason one kidney remained must be because they’d realized Gan Ruǎnruǎn’s regenerative powers and were going for the Sustainable Harvest Plan.
Like picking fruit from a tree—take a batch this year, another next year.
“…”
How could anyone be so utterly carefree? Didn’t she notice she was short a kidney?!
“Kind little doggy, come, big sis will take you out for a drink!” Gan Ruǎnruǎn naturally slung her arm around Jiang Ke’er’s shoulder, grinning wide.
“Alright.”
Jiang Ke’er agreed readily.
She wasn’t in any rush right now, and besides, she was curious to see what kind of “kind soul” came up with the kidney-harvesting plan.
Fortunately, Gan Ruǎnruǎn, hard-headed as she was, didn’t drag Jiang Ke’er back to the previous Tavern.
The two went together to a neutral Tavern, where Demon Race and Human Clan cultivators mingled, the air thick with the smell of alcohol.
The place was dimly lit, unlike the bold and boisterous Taverns typical of the cultivation world; it felt more like the decadent, indulgent venues of her past life.
Finely dressed women sat on stage, playing fast-paced melodies on the zither.
Amid swirling smoke and the glare of colored lights, Jiang Ke’er spotted a few young cultivators absorbed in hallucinogenic herbal powders, and several seasoned pickpockets slipping about.
Even in the serious world of cultivation, there needed to be a place of indulgence for the lost and marginalized so-called “trash” to belong.
Gan Ruǎnruǎn was very familiar with this place and led Jiang Ke’er to a quiet corner to sit.
“Yo! Flat-Top Sis!” The server hurried over to greet her—nobody dared provoke this troublemaker.
“One ‘Not Going Home Tonight’. And you?”
“Milk, thank you.” Jiang Ke’er’s answer was entirely out of place in this setting.
Gan Ruǎnruǎn stared blankly.
“I’m still growing.” Jiang Ke’er replied seriously, her tone resolute.
Unable to argue, Gan Ruǎnruǎn just pouted, “Fine, fine, since you’re my sworn little sister, have it your way… Waiter, go buy some milk for her.”
The server left with an odd expression.
“Why don’t you go fight on the arena?” Jiang Ke’er got straight to the point.
She could tell the other girl was bursting with a desire to cause trouble that needed release.
“I tried, but got banned,” Gan Ruǎnruǎn shrugged, “accidentally let a Referee’s, uh, chicken, fly away.”
A real savage.
Jiang Ke’er smiled wryly and clinked glasses: “I’m about the same as you.”
“You let a Referee’s chicken fly too…”
“No,” Jiang Ke’er shook her head, “I let a Referee’s head fly.”
At the neighboring table, a man quietly paid his bill and left, deciding to resign at once—being a Referee was clearly not a job for humans.