Let me Touch your Tail

Chapter 86

The fall didn't dampen Yan Zhao's enthusiasm for learning to fly with a sword.

The little fox pulled Yan Zhao out of the mud puddle. Yan Zhao wasn't knocked out by the fall; she got up, wiped her face, and grumbled, "Failed again. Why is flying with a sword so difficult?"

Snowball didn't want to respond.

Yan Zhao picked up the little fox and looked it over. The fall had been particularly harsh this time, leaving her dirtier than ever. Yan Zhao clicked her tongue and murmured, "I need to get Mother to teach me the Clean Dust Spell."

Though her voice was soft, the fox's keen ears caught the words, and its small body stiffened immediately.

It turned its head to look at Yan Zhao, its eyes wide with surprise.

But soon, that surprise was replaced with realization.

It made sense now why Yan Zhao occasionally learned new things—Yan Yuanqing must have been guiding her from behind, though the fox had never connected the dots before.

It explained why Yan Zhao seemed to pick up new skills periodically. Unfortunately, even with Yan Yuanqing's direct instruction, Yan Zhao's progress was still dismal.

Yan Zhao finished mumbling, found a nearby stream, and took the fox with her to wash off the mud before continuing on her journey.

As Yan Zhao practiced flying with the sword, falling repeatedly, the little fox gained experience. When the flying sword started to descend rapidly or if Yan Zhao lost balance, it quickly leaped from her arms, performing a graceful flip in mid-air and finding a suitable landing spot.

Every landing was different—sometimes hanging in a tree, sometimes falling into water, and once even crashing into a field in a mortal village, ruining a crop of rice and costing her money to compensate.

Despite the frequent mishaps, Yan Zhao's diligent practice led to noticeable improvement. From initially being able to fly just a few yards, she could now manage over ten yards.

The fox sighed.

On another clear afternoon, Yan Zhao was flying over a sand valley.

Suddenly, with a loud thud, Yan Zhao crashed into the sand like a heavy sack.

The loose sand meant that this time, she could get up on her own without the fox's help.

After getting up and looking around, Yan Zhao thought for a moment, then confirmed her direction and took off again.

Before long.

Thud—

The little fox, now used to the routine, leaped onto Yan Zhao's shoulder as she got up.

At that moment, the fox's ears picked up a faint unusual sound and it turned to look behind.

About twenty to thirty yards away, there was a raised, weathered rock with two black figures perched on it.

Yan Zhao continued to fly forward, and the two black figures silently followed her.

They were two cultivators, dressed similarly, suggesting they were from the same group. Their intentions were clearly not good.

As Yan Zhao's flying sword wobbled uncontrollably in the air, the little fox used the opportunity to leap onto a high, open vantage point.

The two cultivators seized the chance and grabbed their weapons, preparing to strike.

Suddenly, several streaks of sword light flashed by. The person on the left felt a sharp pain in his arm, a wound opening on his shoulder, while the one on the right, who was more skilled, had a burst of blood erupt from his hand, causing him to drop his large sword.