34 A Reunion (1/2)

Eyes met.

Meng Fuyao's eyes were clear, like the moon high above the clouds. On the other hand, his eyes were deep and intense, like the ever-flowing ocean.

The moon shone down onto the peaceful ocean as nature started singing along to the rhythm created by its gently rippling waters, its chorus generating a rumbling echo.

At this moment, her blade ray came close.

He opened his mouth, but at that moment, there was no sound.

”Still doing well, Fuyao?”

Still, doing well?

The movement of his lips sent electricity straight into her heart.

Meng Fuyao had imagined plenty of times a reunion between Yuan Zhaoxu and herself. But they would meet again at a festive location, perhaps at a grand gathering of the noblemen or in his nation ––– she hadn't considered the possibility of seeing him again on such a night, and that he would be standing opposite of her as the recipient of her incoming blade.

Despite the blade pointing at his heart, Yuan Zhaoxu had remained cheery and even greeted her.

Meng Fuyao steadied her body, hovering somewhere above the horse's head, her blade still glistening but her heart already softening.

Especially when he was mouthing the words to her.

Especially when a white furball with two black, beady eyes had wiggled its way out of his clothes, immediately seeing the blade and plucking a strand of fur to block it.

What did he think the fur on his bum was made of?

Meng Fuyao wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but instead, she did none, opting to plop off.

She knew she had screwed up the moment she allowed that to happen. Yuan Zhaoxu was Qi Xunyi's helper after all, and now that she had fallen, Yun Hen wasn't going to leave her alone. She was about to land him in trouble once more.

Meng Fuyao fell into a warm embrace. She could see the skin uncovered by his collar, and it was as smooth as the satin found on his robe. There was a faint, exotic fragrance that enveloped her as the back of her neck rubbed against his chest. She felt as though she had been set on fire.

The fire spread throughout her body, not in a painful but warm and tantalizing way. It was as if she had become one with the hot springs, and she was relaxed all over, from her fingers to her toes. A whole night of thrilling adventures had tired her out, but at this moment, she felt every inch of her bones and muscles loosening and becoming almost nonexistent as the wind gently blew her away.

Behind her, the man's breaths were like alcohol, lulling her into a beautiful dream. If not, they were like the year-round spring breezes drifting from Xuanyuan Nation. If not, they could also be compared to the jade waters of the most beautiful lotus lake in Taiyuan. They were soft, charming and everywhere.

His lips were so close to her and had even brushed against her earlobe from the impact of her movement. A heart-piercing itch took over her body as his hot and moist breaths touched her cheeks as if blowing her soft kisses. Meng Fuyao stiffened her back, but the rest of her body softened, turning into cotton and mist.

The moment seemed to last a second, yet it also seemed to last a millennium.

She heard a low voice drifting into her ear. It was a smiling voice that reminded her of flowers of all seasons, blooming at the same time.

”I really want to kiss you...”

Meng Fuyao shuddered, absentmindedly wondering if his voice had a bewitching effect on her, since those few simple words, coming out of his mouth, seemed to each be attached to a golden hook that had managed to hold her spellbound.

She touched her face. It was burning.

That magical voice paused, and when it started again, it carried a tinge of regret.

”But now's not the time.”

Before he could finish, Meng Fuyao felt the warm behind her dissipate, and her back and her heart were empty. She whipped her head around to see that the loosely-robed man had drawn back and gotten off the horse.

On the ground, he made a roll, like floating clouds. When he got back up, a bow had appeared in his hand.

It was a vermilion red bowstring and an ink-black arrow, its metallic arrowhead flickering indistinctively. He gave a soft smile as his fingers quickly wrapped themselves around the bow and arrow-tail. He pulled the bowstring, forming a full moon amid Yan Lie's astonished gaze, Qi Xunyi's furious glare and the increasing footsteps coming from the batch of imperial guards behind.

He pointed his arrow at Meng Fuyao.

It was cold. Bone-chillingly cold.

Meng Fuyao turned around on the horse, staring at the sharp, eagle eye-like arrowhead, and at the noble-looking man behind it.

In that instant, the air around them turned so still that the flame from the torch and her nervous breathing could be heard. Amid the light, her face appeared calm and her eyes were akin to the clean snow on the highest mountains, never melting. Subtly emerging from within them was a pinch of shock, suspicion, confusion... there were thousands of words that could describe her emotions, but she wasn't able to speak.

Those non-conveyable words that her eyes expressed struck the audience deeply, causing everyone to momentarily forget their tasks.