23 Thanks for Your Service (1/2)

”Eh?” Zhan Beiye let out, finally turning around to acknowledge Meng Fuyao, albeit mindlessly.

”He's bluffing?” Ya Lanzhu questioned while fixing her bright eyes on Meng Fuyao.

Meng Fuyao snapped her fingers before returning her vicious glare. ”No.”

Her reply made Zhan Beiye look at her with full attention.

”Ah?” Ya Lanzhu opened her mouth wide.

”It seems that he's classified me as his number 1.” Meng Fuyao sighed. ”But it's only his wishful thinking. I already have someone in mind so why would I go for this rough man over here?”

Zhan Beiye's face was as black as a charred pot, but in contrast, Ya Lanzhu appeared beyond pleased.

”Some things just can't be forced.” Meng Fuyao clapped. ”Although you look passable, Sir, your temper is not to my liking. Girls should be treasured and respected. How am I to find a husband, now that you've so blatantly professed your love for me?”

Instead of directing her gaze at Zhan Beiye, whose head seemed to be smoking, she looked at Ya Lanzu with all the sincerity she could gather within her. ”There's a saying in my village, Zhuzhu, that wild men are afraid of passionate women. Ignore his words, and do what you do. Go, the revolution is not yet a success and more striving needs to be done.”

Upon hearing her advice, Ya Lanzhu very obediently and enthusiastically threw herself onto Zhan Beiye.

'Shiiing–' Zhan Beiye had pulled out his sword at this point.

Fully engrossed, the spectators ran to the nearest tables to take shelter.

Meng Fuyao cleverly took the chance to slip upstairs.

”Go, pack up and be on your way,” Meng Fuyao ordered Yao Xun immediately upon entering her room. ”Quick.”

”Haven't you solved the issue?” he asked, bewildered.

”Who knows what's going to happen next. We'd better go while that girl is still clinging onto him,” she answered sharply while organizing her belongings.

Yao Xun shook his head and warned, ”The person you've offended is Zhan Beiye, for goodness sake. What were you thinking?”

Meng Fuyao paused what she was doing and glanced at him strangely. ”Don't you know that women are more clingy than men? Men are more tolerant, after all, so I'd rather she pester him than harass me, or there won't be any peaceful day to come.”

In a few swift motions, she had lugged her bundle over her shoulder, pushed open the window and jumped out.

Yet, she found herself landing into a solid embrace.

”Oof,” Meng Fuyao let out while touching her head. ”Whose muscles are these? As hard as steel...” she commented subconsciously, which brought out a smile on the person's face. ”Make way, please.”

Above her was a man with fluttering black hair. He stared down at her with eyes even darker than his hair and with lips pursed so tightly that they formed a thin line.

Meng Fuyao shuddered, resigning to the fact there that existed a kind of people who would always rush to be the first and wondering if they would do the same when greeting death.

Zhan Beiye continued staring at her, suddenly retrieving an exquisite water bladder from his waist belt and generously pouring it over her face.

”Wha.. what are you doing? Hu...” Caught off guard, a startled Meng Fuyao cried out. Flying into a rage, she reached her hand out to slap Zhan Beiye's away, only for it to be clasped firmly between his fingers. His metal plier-like fingers pressed against the pulse within her wrist, and he extended his palm toward her face, gently wiping it.

In between, an infuriated Meng Fuyao shrieked, ”Is your hand clean? Don't touch my mouth. Hey!”

Zhan Beiye stopped abruptly.

The young lady before his eyes was about 16, 17 years old. No longer coated with ginger juice, her face gradually resumed its original fairness, within which a warm pink glow emerged like clouds. In contrast, her eyes emitted a coldness that matched her masculine yet gracefully upturned brows, which resembled the silk ribbons fairies in the nine heavens danced with.

In the brief moment that their eyes met, resentment was evident in her bright red face. Her eyes became increasingly bright, so much that even Zhan Beiye was taken aback. As if subconsciously intimidated, he let go of his hand.