11 That Magical Momen (1/2)
Yuan Zhaoxu appeared to be flying right above and parallel to the ground and reached Meng Fuyao within a second. He reached a hand out to push her down but immediately caught her waist the next moment. Still flying close to the ground, he made a sweeping motion with the sleeves on his other hand, directly sending a gust of wind to disperse the ”grass wall”. The blades of grass were like mini arrows, whizzing toward the gigantic net. Sounds of collision spread incessantly and almost inaudibly, and in the blink of an eye, the net was shredded by the sharp blades.
The last bit of glowing net landed right behind Yuan Zhaoxu's boots and was instantly shot into the mud by the rain.
Still clean and smiling, Yuan Zhaoxu raised his shoulders and looked at the woman below him.
”How do you feel seeing me?”
'How do I feel?'
Meng Fuyao blinked blankly at him.
The man above her had eyes so deep and a smile so mesmerizing that she almost felt tipsy just by gazing at him.
A faint yet exotic aroma diffused across the sky, making it impossible even for the wild storm to dilute it.
The exchange of glances muted them temporarily. Yuan Zhaoxu no longer tried to tease her, and Meng Fuyao, too, no longer attempted to retort. At that moment where a crisis had just been dodged, where the rain was still pattering against their bodies and where Meng Fuyao was completely lost in his scent, she had totally lost the ability to talk.
This seemingly distant man had stayed close by her side since the moment they met and had already saved her life twice in two hours.
Meng Fuyao couldn't understand his motive for helping her.
All she could do was feel heat surging inside of her body as she continued gazing at him. The cold, cruel night had finally been infected with a tinge of warmth.
All it took was that brief eye contact.
Deep within her heart lay a fine bowstring that had long rusted from years of hardship, and even broken from one particular man's abandonment. All of a sudden, however, amid their magical exchange and the contrast between the clamoring rain and the silence they shared, that bowstring of hers started joining back together and producing a subtle yet core-shaking trill.
It was as though a thunderbolt that struck all stillness away.
Meng Fuyao shuddered.
In motion, her fingers brushed across the wet ground, and a pointed grass pierced into one of them. A round and big bead of blood trickled from the cut on her fingertip and was instantaneously wiped away by the rainwater and mixed into the dark colored mud.
Meng Fuyao inhaled deeply. The piercing pain seemed to have sobered her up. She subconsciously shrank her body while looking away. Yuan Zhaoxu, who had been observing, lifted his eyes off her before sweeping themselves up into a standing position in one swift motion.
Still in his embrace, Meng Fuyao head bumped against his chest. ”Are you offering your body to me? But I don't wanna catch a cold,” Yuan Zhaoxu broke the silence.
His tone was relaxed and friendly, and since Meng Fuyao was unable to see his expression, she wasn't actually afraid. Instead, his carefree attitude threw her into a melancholic mood.
'Bah! What are you doing? You're almost 40 for goodness sake! Why are you still getting tangled in such affairs?'
She turned her head, hoping to jump out of his embrace when he suddenly held her down. ”Don't move,” he said in a low voice.
Before he could finish, a number of black figures came into view from meters away. They had bows and arrows in their hands. Having spotted them, he immediately flicked his fingers in midair, creating a mournful buzz that preceded the sudden rise of a brilliant lightning bolt from the ground. Following which, a cluster of trees collapsed, revealing a piece of empty land. Behind the empty land were ten over trees with smoking, black leaves, and skinned trunks, which made them look pitifully bare.