111 Untitled (2/2)

”Hmm?” she uttered muddleheadedly, still grabbing onto her wine cup.

A curl appeared on his thin lips as a graceful and pure smile broke out.

”Do you… like me?”

”Eh?” Meng Fuyao raised her head, eyes narrowed and vision unsteady, as a scarlet robe swayed before her eyes. She seemed to be especially drunk today, and facing the extraordinary beauty that was before her, she was convinced that Feng Mo's eyes were thrice as soul-catching as Zhangsun Wuji's.

”Yeah…” While her face was on the table, drooling, Meng Fuyao mumbled before shutting her eyes.

Feng Mo smiled, his light scarlet sleeves brushing across the table like a falling cherry blossom branch. He chuckled, causing his body to tremble slightly and his hair to drape over his shoulders and her own hair, as he inched closer to comb her hair aside. He carried her up and whispered, ”Women, women, you're all the same…”

He stopped suddenly.

The night was quiet except for the soft twittering of birds and the flowing of the stream from far away.

Feng Mo placed Meng Fuyao down. Turning around, calmness restored, he spoke, ”Please show yourself, strong one.”

His voice was the same but not his tone. He sounded nothing like the humble and respectful server from the brothel, as there was only mightiness and coldness in his statement.

A light purple figure emerged from the darkness.

”You indeed,” Feng Mo recovered his smile and pointed at Meng Fuyao. ”Did you hear it? The woman you fancy just said that she likes me.”

”Senior,” Zhangsun Wuji called out, as if not hearing his provocation. ”Aren't you sick of playing the same old game? It's been so many years.”

”Sick? I will not be sick until I meet a lady who can resist me,” he smirked. ”Look at them. They're all the same. Eyes everywhere, fluid as water… leave their side, and they run elsewhere. No exception.”

He moved slowly, looking at Meng Fuyao and sighing in disappointment. ”I had thought that she would be different…”

”Why would you expect ladies to resist you when you're using your soul-seduction technique on them?” Zhangsun Wuji smiled. ”With your identity, you can kill whoever you want. Why use this as an excuse to kill innocent women?”

”So this is the psychotic playboy who vents his anger on ladies because he's been betrayed by one!”

A flowery figure leaped from a tree outside the corridor. ”Eh, heartless playboy, wanna have a taste of Legendary Birds, one of the three legendary techniques of Fufeng?” Ya Lanzhu called out, crisp and speedily, her style of speaking evidently inspired by Meng Fuyao.

Feng Mo cast a side glance and smirked. ”If your father was standing before me, perhaps I would look him in the eyes, but you?”

Instead of explaining he raised a finger toward the darkness. ”Two more, show yourselves. Help save this old man's time.”

It was strange to hear this young-looking lad with an aura as bright as pearls and gems address himself as an old man. However, no one laughed, and even Zhangsun Wuji retreated in caution before this man, whose reputation swept across the Five Region Continent for over 30 years.

Because that was Starlight Sage, Fang Yimo.

Zhan Beiye jumped from the garden wall as Zong Yue entered from the main entrance, and Ya Lanzhu let out, ”Go!”

Birds of all colors flew into view and where they past dark fog rose. The sinister sound of their flapping wings messed with one's mental state, and the leader of the pack, whose feathers were multicolored and eyes deep red, drew a bright arc across the sky while charging toward Fang Yimo.

Fang Yimo let out a long laugh and waved his sleeve, causing the flower vine rack to topple and trap the majority of the birds within. The birds flapped their wings effortfully but struggled nevertheless. Only the leader had a blade-like beak that ripped a big hole, allowing it to dive for him like an eagle.

The moves executed by the three men had also reached Fang Yimo simultaneously.

A steady purple ray, a black gust-like shadow and a vague white figure scattered like fog in the sky, and the narrow garden was instantly invaded by four different colors that spun about while rising and falling. They combined to form an appearance like that of a fluctuating rainbow.

Fang Yimo swerved between the capable youths with his light body, and while his speed seemed relatively slow, each attack possessed astonishing precision and power, and each attack produced thousands of silver rays that pierced through the complicated rainbow-colored ones, finishing into a brilliant, phoenix-like tail. The garden that had yet to be lit was now splattered in glorious lights, as though a silver river had fallen from the sky.