That night was cool as water.
The bright moon shone radiant, its clear and chilly moonlight like a thin white gauze curtain, streaming through the open lattice window into the loft of Zhuanjiang Pavilion and settling into a silver-white frost.
Tree shadows swayed, rustling softly.
Feng Jiuge reclined against a soft couch, half-covered by a black cashmere blanket. A veil of ink-black hair spread out, winding along the couch like a cascading waterfall of ink pouring downward.
The moonlight was bright and clear; the lady serene and beautiful.
Suddenly—
A wisp of breeze swept past swiftly, stirring the room’s gauze curtain into a slight sway. The next moment, it quickly returned to calm, as if that trace of movement in the air had been merely an illusion born of a dazed trance.
Yet looking beside the couch, one would see a tall man in black robes standing before Feng Jiuge, one hand with fingers formed into a claw, exceedingly fierce, carrying a blue gust of forceful wind as it rapidly struck straight toward her face.
“As expected, you’ve come.”
Her eyes snapped open, carrying a smile as they met the man’s eyes, thick with killing intent.
Feng Jiuge spoke leisurely, but her right hand swiftly pressed the protruding mechanism on the couch.
The soft couch suddenly transformed like an enormous refined crossbow, and she was the bolt on that bow that had to be loosed—instantly catapulted far out the window. Her petite figure immediately concealed itself in the forest outside the pavilion.
“Damn it!”
A low voice carried a violent roar. Yun Aotian’s sharp brows furrowed slightly, the blue light on his body growing increasingly intense.
He turned and gave chase. Following the ring’s aura, he pursued for several dozen li before stopping in a sparsely populated forest.
Meanwhile, Feng Jiuge, clad in moon-white, stood with hands behind her back atop a tree crown. Her figure was agile, poised as if about to ascend.
She raised her eyes to look at him; a pair of beautiful, crystalline pupils shifted gently, rippling with subtle waves.
She had never intended to flee. The monk could run away, but not the temple; one could hide from the first, but not the fifteenth. Some matters were better resolved sooner rather than later, lest even sleep brought no peace.
However, both Zhuanjiang Pavilion and Yuyang Tower were her establishments. Given the destructive commotion this man before her would cause, her hard work would be ruined. In contrast, this remote wilderness was truly far too suitable for murder, silencing witnesses, and disposing of corpses.
But who would kill whom remained to be seen.
This man’s recovery ability was too astonishing. Clearly, yesterday he had been injured to such a degree…
Her right hand grasped at empty air. A flash of silver light, and an Ancient Moon Scimitar fell from her storage earring into her grip. The bright silver blade reflected the bleak moonlight, rendering the man’s handsome features somewhat pallid.
Indeed, he still hadn’t recovered much.
Feng Jiuge curved one corner of her lips into a faint smile.
Yun Aotian and Feng Jiuge stood facing each other, yet hovering in mid-air above the treetops. His entire body was enveloped in a translucent blue halo, his black robes wildly dancing.
His right hand raised. A burst of blue light appeared, gradually forming into a blue sphere in his palm, growing larger and larger, seemingly even carrying the silver-white lightning of a thunderclap.
“Return the ring,” he said, his voice icy to the bone.
Feng Jiuge glanced at the ring on her left hand still faintly flashing with blue light, tilting her head with an innocent expression. “Expert, if I said this ring cannot be removed, would you believe me?”
“Seeking death!” A ruthless voice brimmed with heaven-shaking fury. A thunderous roar, and wind surged as clouds gathered.
Before the voice fell, that massive blue light sphere was already hurtling toward Feng Jiuge at astonishing speed. The surrounding air was driven by that intense airflow, sizzling.
Withered branches and fallen leaves were swept into the air, tumbling and spinning. The trees beneath their feet rippled with churning waves of air, like a green ocean.
Feng Jiuge’s eyes suddenly narrowed, switching her grip on the Ancient Moon Scimitar from one hand to two.
“Zhu Hun, after all, you count as a famous ancient blade. Don’t embarrass yourself on your very first taste of blood.”