"What a beauty, even a mere maidservant by Lord Leng Yue's side is so alluring."
Yun Xiao's cold mockery came from behind, "Didn't you say you weren't interested in women? If Your Highness..."
Before Yun Xiao could finish, Shangguan Lin's face turned ashen. With a flick of his hand, he coldly stated, "This prince bids you farewell."
Only then did Yun Xiao's spirits lift. She smiled at the tall figure, now dissolving into the lingering sunset glow, and let out a long sigh of relief.
Truth be told, she had initially intended to tease Shangguan Lin, to make him even more self-important. But then she considered that the clinic needed a powerful backer, and so she let him off the hook this time.
It was a uniquely designed mansion. Within its grounds, exotic flowers bloomed riotously, and covered bridges and jade bridges arced over clear, emerald pools. A semi-circular bridge spanned one such pool.
Upon the bridge stood a pavilion, its light veils fluttering in the breeze. A tall figure leaned casually against the railing, a jade flute in hand, its melody as winding and fluid as water, spiraling into the air.
The clear lake was adorned with delicate water lilies, which bloomed with an extraordinary radiance in the last rays of the setting sun.
A gentle breeze swept by, stirring shallow ripples.
From afar, a figure approached rapidly, their steps swift as the wind. In the blink of an eye, they stopped outside the pavilion and spoke respectfully, "Master, we've received news. I'm unsure if it's her."
As Zhui Yue finished speaking, the ethereal flute melody ceased abruptly, indicating the player had been awaiting this very message.
"Speak."
His voice was as cold as Satan's, yet it carried a hint of delicate tenderness.
"A new clinic, Poppy Clinic, has opened on Fengxiang Street. The owner behind it is rumored to be called Lord Leng Yue. Someone saw him; he's said to be handsome and peculiar. Could it be him?"
Zhui Yue spoke respectfully. The person in the pavilion remained motionless, his silver mask catching the sunset, tinged with the color of rouge. Behind the mask, his eyes were as deep and dark as a pool of black water.
Not a single thought could be discerned. His lips were pressed together, and he remained still, as if turned into a sculpture.
Zhui Yue, outside the pavilion, thought his master had turned to stone. That girl seemed to have truly become the source of his tenderness. He knew he was weary, always so bloodthirsty and hardened.
A person like him, once they encountered the right one, would desperately want to hold on, for his lonely heart craved warmth. Ever since he learned that girl had disappeared, his master had become erratic.
What if something were to happen to that girl one day?
Zhui Yue shivered. His master would undoubtedly unleash utter destruction. He cherished that girl like a treasure. He prayed that no one would ever dare to touch that prickly little girl.
After a long while, a voice finally echoed from within the pavilion.
"Very well. I will investigate this matter."
Although he still didn't know the person's identity, Zhui Yue could hear a slight softening in his master's habitually cold and bloodthirsty voice.
"Did anything unexpected happen with Lue Hua's side?"
"No, everyone is waiting in quiet anticipation."
"Good. You may go," Murong Chong waved his hand, signaling Zhui Yue to withdraw. He picked up his flute again and began to play, but this time, the melody was distinctly imbued with a touch of gentleness. Within his eyes, unfathomable waves churned, as dark as an abyss.
Xiao'er, you actually forgot your promise to me. No matter where you are, you must let me know.
The night was like water, a gentle breeze chasing the moon, the vast sky like a ladle.
The sky was densely packed with stars, like a magnificent brocade adorned with jewels.
A streak of white, ethereal light flashed between the pavilions, swift as lightning, leaving no trace in an instant. The night remained cool and desolate.
Beneath the vast, starry sky, stars winked like eyes. The pure moonlight illuminated the earth, veiled in a soft mist.
A simple, elegant small building slumbered in the night. Four transparent glass lanterns hung from the eaves, casting the building in an even more ethereal glow.
A figure, graceful as flowing water, quietly approached the small building, only to have their path blocked mid-air.
Beneath the cold moonlight, a tall figure suddenly appeared from nowhere. With a flourish of his long sword, its silver light gleamed, and a cold, deep voice rang out.
"Who goes there?"
Liuxing gazed forward. Under the moonlight, this person was clad in a white brocade robe, his golden sash fluttering. His figure appeared before him in an instant, as if he had arrived on dust.
The silver mask on his face flickered with an eerie cold radiance. From the pupils beneath the mask emanated a deep, abyssal aura, carrying a bloodthirsty ferocity. This was none other than Palace Master Murong. It was unexpected that he would be sneaking into the clinic at night.
It was clear he suspected the master. Fortunately, he had disguised himself as a withered old man tonight.
Otherwise, he would have revealed a weakness. Seeing this man appear, he felt a headache coming on, for he knew all too well that with his martial arts, he couldn't defeat this man. Not to mention defeating him, he wouldn't even last ten moves.
If Jingyun were here, he could have held them off for a while. But now, with only himself, it was truly troublesome. His expression grew colder, hoping to prevent this man from entering the master's room.
But his thoughts seemed too naive. Since this man had come, would he leave empty-handed?
He ignored him completely and drifted straight towards the small building. Seeing himself disregarded, Liuxing was enraged. He leaped forward, his sword flying out, but it was repelled by a powerful barrier of Qi.
This man had actually mastered the Vajra Shield. Ordinary people couldn't even get close to him, while Liuxing himself was bounced back by this Vajra Qi, his tiger's mouth left numb.
He could only watch helplessly as the man drifted into the room on the second floor.
Even though he knew he couldn't win, he couldn't just stand by and watch this man freely enter and exit the master's boudoir. Liuxing leaped up, preparing to fight that man to the death.
Who would have thought that at this moment, someone flashed from behind him? It was Zhui Yue, Murong Chong's subordinate. This fellow lagged far behind his master. Seeing an elderly man about to contend with his master, he quickly drew his sword and blocked him. After a brief exchange, Zhui Yue's voice was gentle.
"Forget it. Let's not fight. My master will not harm Lord Leng Yue."
"Hmph."
Liuxing completely ignored him. He simply detested the people of the Divine Dragon Palace.
A mere martial arts sect, yet so arrogant. He found them utterly displeasing and thus paid no mind to Zhui Yue, continuing his relentless assault. Zhui Yue, while parrying the sword, spoke with dissatisfaction.
"Hey, you old man are truly strange. I respect you, and I've already told you my master won't trouble Lord Leng Yue, yet you insist on not listening. Do you think I'm afraid of you?"
The two became entangled, fighting from one side of the small building to the other, their struggle taking them further and further away.
Inside the small building, the soft veils on the window fluttered elegantly in the night breeze. A refreshing wind swirled within the room. The sky-blue bed curtains swayed with graceful ripples in the night air. The person on the bed was deep in slumber.
If he hadn't pressed her pressure points for sleep, she would have woken up long ago. Although she had no internal energy, she was very vigilant.
Moonlight streamed in like water, clearly revealing the small figure on the large bed, tightly hugging a floral cushion, sleeping soundly. Her fair skin was flushed with two rosy patches. In her slumber, she had no defenses at all.
Such a sight, if seen by others, would be irresistibly attractive to any man, and he was no exception.