That night, a mad wind carried sand, and the cold moon hung like a sickle.
Swish!
The woman in black flicked the silver chain at her waist. It transformed into a whip, and using the force of its rebound, she anchored herself firmly on a tree fork in the instant she slid downward. Standing with the wind, her ink-black hair flying in all directions, she was seven parts dashing and three parts bewitching.
Where was this?
Her shrewd eyes narrowed slightly as she examined the brightly lit palace below with meticulous care.
The familiar neon lights were gone. All that met the eye were great red lanterns hanging high. Some of the bluestone had not even been polished to perfection, yet had already been carved into long corridors and emerald pillars stretching all the way west.
This situation seemed rather strange.
The woman tilted her head and arched a brow, her brain with an IQ as high as 180 swiftly whirring into analysis.
Ancient jade, strange light, ancient architecture.
Wait.
Could this be—
Those melodramatic transmigration dramas Nangua had been obsessed with some time ago!
According to Nangua, ancient costume equaled transmigration.
Then what they were in now was…
But where had that glutton gone?
Her unruffled eyes swept over the empty, deserted courtyard, and a trace of worry appeared on her usually calm, pretty face.
Just then!
“Mm… ah…!”
From the dark grass came a rustling sound, along with faint, indistinct cries of pleasure.
It had to be that pighead!
The corner of Mo Bei’s mouth twitched once, then again. She landed gracefully, light as a black feather. For the first time in her life, without careful deliberation, she parted the grass before her with a swish.
“Nangua, how many times have I told you? Don’t make such…” ambiguous sounds again!
But before the last syllable could fall, she was utterly and completely stunned by the “magnificent scene” before her.
A man and a woman, clothes in disarray, one above and one below, one in front and one behind.
Uh, what was this? Outdoor field combat? A sequel shoot of the classic R-rated scene from House of Flying Daggers? Mo Bei was certain she had truly been frightened this time!
Rip!
There was no time for her to stand there dumbfounded. A burst of sharp pain came from her left shoulder. She braced a palm against the ground and reacted swiftly, retreating backward, yet still failed to dodge the hidden weapon.
Damn it! The woman clenched her teeth tightly, her jade-like back pressed against the tree trunk behind her. Her midnight-dark pupils swept over the reflective silver mask on the man’s face. She had never seen anyone make such thorough preparations for an affair! Inwardly, she swore that one day she would rob him until he wailed to heaven and earth!
“You saw what you shouldn’t have seen. Do you think you can still leave?” The low voice had been deliberately distorted, like a sharp blade slicing through the night sky. It did not carry the hoarseness of someone sunk deep in desire, but it was filled with a chilling cold that made one shudder involuntarily upon hearing it.
Mo Bei’s body stiffened. Then the corners of her thin lips lifted slightly. She slowly raised her head, her icy eyes carrying a faint trace of mockery, without the slightest fear.
Threatening people? Sorry, but she, Mo Bei, was timid. She had always yielded to softness, never force!
Their eyes met. Arrogant as she was, the two faced off against each other, the atmosphere on the verge of exploding.
Suddenly, from not far away came a low curse. “Damn it, it’s hot enough to kill a man, and we still got assigned to patrol this godforsaken place!”
“My lord, someone’s coming!” the woman who had kept her back turned the entire time said urgently. From her disordered tone, her panic was not hard to hear.
The man cursed under his breath. Seemingly unwilling to let it go, he reached out to embrace the delicate body, then swept his sleeve and sent thirteen needles flying, leaving like a gust of wind.
Swish, swish, swish!
That bastard was truly ruthless. Even while fleeing, he didn’t forget to take her life! Mo Bei struggled to avoid the plum-blossom hidden weapons, but with only a whip in hand, she was no match for silver needles imbued with inner force.
In a daze, her veil flew up, revealing a bloodstain shallow as a crescent moon.
Mo Bei’s footing faltered. As she fell, only four words filled her mind: rob his ancestral grave.
Even if she had to dig three feet into the ground, she would drag out that man from just now!
In Nangua’s words, Beibei was normally an exceedingly easygoing and magnanimous person. Of course, as long as you didn’t steal her silver or touch her face, everything could be discussed!
But for now, the proper thing to do was deal with these soldiers first. Mo Bei gathered her emotions and watched coldly and quietly as the guards were about to swarm in.
Fight? No.
Two fists could hardly fend off four hands. Only Nangua would be that reckless.
Run? No.
She estimated that before she could even strike a pose, someone would shout “catch the assassin,” and she would be hunted throughout the city. A thief was better off keeping a low profile. Besides, she was unfamiliar with the people and the place here, and had yet to figure out the lay of the land.
So. Mo Bei slowly closed her eyes and pricked up her ears to listen to the wind and moon.
To put it plainly, she was playing dead.