My Silly, Sweet Wife

As he spoke, Ye Guichen took the ring out from his own storage ring and tossed it to the Barbarian King.

The Barbarian King was stunned; he hadn’t expected Ye Guichen to be so easy to talk to.

Originally, he had thought Ye Guichen would decline a few times, or even refuse outright.

Then he could’ve used that as an excuse to make things difficult for Ye Guichen.

But with Ye Guichen handing over the ring so easily, the Barbarian King suddenly didn’t know how to respond.

At this moment, that white‑clothed Corpse Cultivator opened his mouth: "Haha, human cultivator, interesting! You want to seek the Fountain of Life? To be honest, that Fountain of Life isn’t a place just anyone can enter. I don’t know how you managed to fool Sana back then into giving you this ring that symbolizes the Barbarian Tribe’s authority, but among the Barbarians, strength is everything. You want to seek the Fountain of Life? Hehe, without strength, I’m afraid you don’t even have the qualifications!"

"Oh?" In fact, Ye Guichen had already noticed the white‑clothed Corpse Cultivator when he came in, and he also smelled the dense corpse aura coming off the man.

That Corpse Cultivator didn’t bother to conceal his identity at all; that corpse stench almost made Ye Guichen throw up.

But the Barbarians didn’t seem the slightest bit sensitive to this corpse aura.

Especially Sana, who didn’t seem to react at all.

Now that the other party had jumped out, Ye Guichen merely let out a cold laugh: "Oh? Then what qualifications do I need?"

"Very simple. Among us Barbarians, strength reigns supreme. If your strength surpasses mine, then the Barbarian King will naturally lead you to seek the Fountain of Life. Otherwise, you’d better hurry up and scram!" Man Wu roared.

Sana grew anxious when she heard this.

She knew Man Wu’s strength; even a cultivator of the Nascent Soul Realm couldn’t withstand a single punch from him.

Besides, a human cultivator’s strong point isn’t physical strength at all. They cultivate using weapons and Cultivation Techniques, and it’s precisely because of this that they managed to suppress the Barbarians.

If it’s purely about strength, then under heaven, even cultivation above the Nascent Soul Realm, or some human cultivators who specialize in Body Cultivation to Great Perfection, might barely be comparable to the Barbarians, right?

"Man Wu, that’s not fair!" Sana wanted to argue on Ye Guichen’s behalf, but only drew a bout of ridicule from Man Wu: "Sana, what’s this, are you that loyal to your master now? Hehe, all right then, if that’s the case, you can step in for your master. Of course, as long as your so‑called master doesn’t feel ashamed afterward."

"You..." Sana’s face flushed red.

Although her talent was superior to Man Wu’s, she had been imprisoned for so many years that her cultivation was almost half‑stagnant.

And now, because Man Wu was heir to the next Barbarian King, nearly all of the Barbarian Tribe’s resources had been tilted toward him.

If they really fought, even three or five Sanas probably wouldn’t be Man Wu’s match.

Now, even if she stepped in for Ye Guichen, how could she possibly be his opponent?

"Master, there’s no need to stoop to his level," Sana turned her head and said to Ye Guichen.

Ye Guichen shrugged, looking completely indifferent: "I’ve already returned the ring to you. Since you insist on a contest, then we’ll have a contest."

"What? Master, you mustn’t!" Sana hadn’t expected Ye Guichen to agree and stomped her feet in anxiety.

Man Wu, however, burst out laughing wildly: "Good, good, kid, I’ll give you that—you’ve got some guts!"

Then he clasped his fists toward the Barbarian King: "Barbarian King, please preside over this contest. If he can defeat me, he’ll be allowed to enter the land of the Fountain of Life. What do you think?"

"Very well!" The Barbarian King glanced at the white‑clothed Corpse Cultivator and nodded slightly.

The group arrived at the martial arena.

This was a vast open area, usually used for duels between Barbarians.

Whenever Barbarians had any sort of conflict, they almost always resolved it through force. Regardless of right or wrong, as long as you could knock your opponent down, you were the victor—you were right.

News that a human cultivator dared to compete in strength against Man Wu quickly attracted nearly all the Barbarians in the tribe.

Those Barbarians looked at Ye Guichen’s thin and frail figure, pointing and whispering among themselves.

"I heard that brat became Sana’s master. Looks like being captured by a human cultivator all these years has made Sana lose her Barbarian wildness!"

"Hmph, truly overestimating himself, daring to compete in strength with us Barbarians. That brat will probably be killed on the spot by a single punch from Man Wu, right?"

"Good if he’s beaten to death. Human cultivators are too cunning. If not for their tricks and schemes, would we have been forced to hide here?"

"Exactly. Human cultivators don’t have the cultivation, yet they rely on their schemes. They’re all a bunch of deceitful bastards!"

Clearly, most of these Barbarians didn’t have a good impression of human cultivators.

In their eyes, the reason human cultivators occupied the colorful world outside was entirely due to their plots and schemes, not their true strength.

This martial arena was hundreds of meters in diameter, extremely vast.

Ropes were strung around the edge to form a circle.

The rules were simple: as long as you were knocked down or thrown out of the circle, you lost.

After Man Wu leaped into the ring, he swung his fists and let out a series of roars.

Sound waves surged all around, and the Barbarians cheered and shouted to boost Man Wu’s morale.

Sana was filled with worry. Seeing Ye Guichen with one hand behind his back and a casual look on his face, she couldn’t help but clench her fists.

"Hehe, Sana, you’re really worried about him?" At some point, that white‑clothed Corpse Cultivator had appeared at Sana’s side.

Sana didn’t have any good feelings toward this Corpse Cultivator. She gave him a glance but didn’t reply.

The Corpse Cultivator awkwardly found himself ignored and turned his gaze to the center of the arena.

However, just as all the Barbarians focused their attention on the arena, the white‑clothed Corpse Cultivator lightly tapped with a finger, and from his fingertip crawled out a tiny little bug.