12 I’ll Fall into Hell (2/2)

Meng Fuyao turned as red as a tomato.

Putting down his cup and leaning sideways on his chair, Yuan Zhaoxu asked with a semi-smile, ”Mom? As in your birth mother? The way you address her seems different from how the rest in the Five Region Continent does it.”

Meng Fuyao was first embarrassed, and then apprehensive. After some thought she explained, ”You, Sir, sound as though you understand the traditions of every clan in each region, but what you don't know is that in Yanhuang clan, that's exactly how we call our mothers.”

”Yanhuang clan?” Yuan Zhaoxu repeated calmly, not the least bit surprised.

”Yes,” Fuyao reaffirmed. ”A small clan on the far end of Heng Region. Generations have been living deep in the mountains and have stayed away from outside contact. I was brought out of the mountains by a distant relative. I don't remember anything else, save for the way we address our mothers.”

She blinked, extending her hand out and smiling graciously, ”I'm Meng Fuyao. Thanks for saving me twice in a row.”

Yuan Zhaoxu's gaze fell upon her fair palm. Smiling, he asked, ”Is this also clan etiquette?”

Meng Fuyao looked straight into his eyes and answered, ”In our culture, it's extremely rude if you fail to reciprocate when a girl extends her hand.”

”Oh yeah..?” Yuan Zhaoxu dragged his word with a voice so deep and graceful that it seemed almost dreamy. He reached his hand out, seemingly in an attempt to shake her hand, but before his fingers touched hers, he pulled her right into his arms.

He let out a low laugh that rang over Meng Fuyao's head while emitting his usual scent, successfully stunning her.

”It is extremely silly of us, in Wuji Nation, not to keep a girl when she initiates body contact.”

'Take in?'

'Does this person not understand boundaries or that modesty is a virtue?'

Meng Fuyao made a fist and placed it on her chest, determined to resist that warm and charming fragrance radiating from his body and not to look up at his smiley eyes. That fellow's eyes looked as though they had been glossed over by the light rays of springtime, and he possessed an overwhelming aura that was as powerful as his skills. All intention to withstand his attack disintegrated in a flash.

Like a Mandara flower, this man was obviously a dangerous character – beautiful and harmless on the outside but deadly on the inside. Every cell within Meng Fuyao's body was warning her not to lust for his warmth. Having lived for so many years, it would be an utter disgrace for her to fall into such a trifling yet fatal trap.

Meng Fuyao raised her long, shapely brows and threw her fist forward in hope of creating a safe distance between them. However, Yuan Zhaoxu tightened his grip around the middle of her back and spun her around, causing her to fall back onto the bed.

The next second, his light-colored robe came loose, and he appeared on the bed as well. On the way down he had reached out to undo the bishop sleeve veil, causing the string of pearls holding it together to drop onto the bed and floor. Enhancing the soft thuds of the pearls were alluring silhouettes, visible through the curtain, of a man and a woman.

Shocked by what she had seen, Meng Fuyao was all ready to hop out of bed, only to be hushed by Yuan Zhaoxu. Resting against a pillow, he turned his head to her and smiled. ”Shh–––”

He then looked out of the window just as a black shadow flashed by.

Meng Fuyao cast a quick glance at him before getting into an attacking posture.

Smile not leaving his face, Yuan Zhaoxu made a flip out of bed and stuck his back against the window. ”Girls shouldn't be so aggressive, no poise...” he advised in a warm tone. As his gentle voice reached her ears, she felt as though a musical string had been strummed; it was low, misty, and absolutely hypnotizing.

Her face flushed with good reason.

The man flicked his fingers all of a sudden before she could snap out of her tipsiness.

'Clap.'

On the white, translucent window paper blossomed a few red plum flowers that slowly spread and intertwine with shadows of other flowers.

A stifled groan sounded outside, at the foot of the wall, before fading out.

Hearing that, Meng Fuyao shook her head. ”Demanding poise from me and then casually piercing someone else's eardrum.”

”If he weren't standing so close to the window, would my ice needle have gotten there?” Yuan Zhaoxu replied with light flickering in his eyes. ”There's a cause and effect in everything. Defy it and die.”

She laughed with a frown on her face. ”These are the morals people in Wuji live by?”

Yuan Zhaoxu smiled in response. Wanting to get up, Meng Fuyao shifted her body only to realize that she was unable to move. She turned around and was shocked to find Yuan Zhaoxu back on the bed, even closer to her this time. He smirked, holding up a small lock of her hair and playing with it. Seeing her face, his smirk turned into a glowing smile. With his eyes closed, he lifted her hair close to his nose and took a strong whiff of it.

”How sweet,” he uttered with a shallow laugh.

Meng Fuyao immediately snatched her hair back and shot him a deathly glare.

Pretending not to notice, Yuan Zhaoxu picked up yet another lock of hair to fiddle with and even conveniently placed another scattered lock under his body. Unable to struggle free, Meng Fuyao hissed, ”I've already rolled on mud, fallen off a cliff and been soaked in the rain for a whole night.”

”It's alright, though. Not too smelly.”

”I have head lice.”

”Even better. I'll get them out for you.”

After a long pause, Meng Fuyao smiled. Yuan Zhaoxu raised his head to look at her. His face was breathtakingly stunning from that angle, which led Meng Fuyao to pull the quilt over to cover his face. What followed after were vigorous creaking and grating of the bed.