Why did you touch her?

"When..." Qinglan's Adam's apple rolled with difficulty, and he stared at her without blinking.

Fu Ying curled the corners of her lips and lightly traced her fingertips across his tense chest. "It was taken when we were heading to the top of the snowy plains to buy medicinal herbs at the tribal trade fair. Doesn't it look good?"

Qinglan stared at Fuying, and suddenly a low laugh came out of his throat, with a coldness that was unique to him.

His voice was ethereal and clear, but his pronunciation was strong: "It looks good, very good."

"Then what's next..." Fu Ying leaned over and pressed her red lips against Qinglan's.

However, before she could continue, Teng's voice broke through the air: "Aying! The Marquis of Buye has escaped!"

Fu Ying narrowed her beautiful eyes, straightened up, and the scent of Qinglan still lingered on her lips.

She put on her clothes slowly and leisurely, and when she opened the bamboo door, the corners of her narrow eyes were still stained with a lingering blush.

Fu Ying stood at the door, her clothes half-open. Except for the bright red marks on her collarbone and chest, she was full of spring beauty. She looked at Teng standing at the door and asked: "Run away?"

A night passed and the heavy rain continued.

The smell of alcohol on Teng dissipated, and his eyes were as soft as spring water the moment he met Fu Ying, but they froze into ice when he turned to Qinglan who had followed him. The hostility surging in his dark green eyes pierced Qinglan like a sharp sword.

Teng said nothing, just stared at him coldly, as if questioning him silently.

——Why did you touch her?

But the next moment, Teng's pupils suddenly locked tightly and his whole body trembled.

Seven-star pattern?

Because in just one night, Qinglan, who had five star patterns, had suddenly become a seven-star pattern. Each of those patterns stung his eyes, causing pain. And now, he was actually on par with him? Why?

A rusty taste surged into Teng's throat, causing his back teeth to ache.

He desperately drank bowl after bowl of spirit wine, hoping to break through to the Nine-Star Realm as soon as possible. But after one night, apart from being extremely excited and having enough energy to the point of being restless, the star pattern power in his body was still as dormant as stagnant water, without any signs of growth!

Qinglan hadn't done anything, and even hurt Ah Ying! Yet, he had gotten ahead of him and been the first to win the favor of the female master. Teng clenched his fists tightly, unable to suppress the bitterness that surged in his chest.

He has no right to interfere with who Aying likes, who she is willing to accept, and who she is with.

But why did it have to be this male who had hurt her? Was she so fond of Qinglan?

That would have been fine, but Qinglan had only spent one night with Aying, yet he had broken through two levels of star patterns and was on par with him in the blink of an eye!

Teng was holding back a lot of anger, and his internal organs were burning with pain from the burning anger.

He really suffered a great loss!

Fu Ying's fingertips casually gathered the loose collar of his clothes: "Did he just run away?"

"I didn't see anyone when I woke up this morning. Maybe he escaped back to the dark abyss." Teng's voice was tense, but he suppressed the anger that surged in his body while talking to Fu Ying.

Qinglan's eyes were cold, and he turned to Fu Ying and said softly, "Don't worry, I'll find it for you."

Teng's body moved slightly, and the sharp bone knife at his waist emitted a cold light, and the blade seemed to be able to cut through the rain curtain.

He narrowed his dark green pupils, a cold and cruel smile playing on his lips: "Is it your turn to show your courtesy? Do you want me to help you recall who forced Ah Ying to endure the backlash of the contract?"

Teng's slender fingertips stroked the hilt of the knife: "Do you know how much pain she was in at that time?"

Qinglan's gray-brown pupils suddenly shrank, and he trembled violently as if he had been pierced by a poisonous needle.

He subconsciously took a half step towards Fu Ying, his fingertips clenching the corner of her hanging sleeve. Because his whole body was stiff and trembling, even the jade beads in his hair made a slight sound of breaking.

Qinglan's face, which was always cold and lazy, was now terribly pale, and his heart ached.

Fu Ying raised the corners of her eyes slightly, with a soft and gentle look in them: "Go back, I have my own way to deal with the Marquis of Buye, don't worry."

After saying that, she leaned forward, her fingertips sliding along Qinglan's tense wrist into her palm, scratching it gently as if to comfort him, and whispered in his ear, "It doesn't hurt."

Qinglan's breathing stagnated. The words "it doesn't hurt" were like honey covering the wound on his heart, a mixture of pain and sweetness.

Fu Ying withdrew his hand, turned around and walked towards Teng.

She suddenly reached out and grabbed his strong arm, startling him so much that his body suddenly stiffened.

His Adam's apple rolled violently, dark currents surged in his dark green pupils, and his voice was hoarse: "Aying?"

Fu Ying looked at Teng's deep eyebrows and eyes, stood on tiptoe, and her breath brushed across his angular jaw.

Her slender fingertips slid along his muscles, feeling the body trembling instantly under her hands. She curled her lips and asked with a flickering look in her eyes, "Has the alcohol worn off? Are you feeling unwell?"

Teng groaned in silence and shook his head slowly, with a hint of softness and confusion between his handsome eyebrows.

Fu Ying suddenly chuckled, a mischievous smile forming at the corners of his eyes: "Would you like to accompany me to find someone?"

Her long black hair swept across his arm, causing a slight tingling sensation.

His Adam's apple rolled and he nodded hesitantly. His usually sinister and cold face softened, revealing a bit of clumsy and obedient behavior, as if all the scales on his body had been retracted and obedient, without any fierceness at all.

Fu Ying looked at him like this, feeling a little amused and a little sad.

I originally wanted to open a back door for him, but who would have thought this guy would be so stupid.

"Let's go." Fuying held Teng's arm and walked leisurely, following the "thousand-mile thread" on his fingertips, neither hurried nor slow, very calm, not afraid that Buyehou would escape.

With his current abilities, it was simply a dream for him to travel across the Orc Continent during the rainy season.

Huandie was already weak, and without the power of confusion and the protection of the Zerg, he might not even be able to leave the territory of the Black Crocodile Swamp. So she went slowly and rescued him when he was in the most embarrassing situation, just in time.

When leaving the Black Crocodile Swamp, Fu Ying suddenly stopped and looked back.

Strange bubbles emerged from the sticky mud during the rainstorm, but the sound of scales rubbing against each other that once occurred one after another disappeared completely.

She raised her eyebrows slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes: "These black crocodile orcs actually migrated?"

"Black Crocodile Orcs?" Teng was startled, his attention finally withdrawing from the warmth of his arm. He gathered himself and said, "When I came here, I saw some orcs leaving this territory."

Teng's eyes swept across the silent swamp: "Are they trying to escape the Zerg?"

"Probably." Fu Ying looked nonchalant and didn't care.

These black crocodile orcs must have listened to Ni's words and didn't want to stay here and die in vain, so they migrated with their entire clan. It's good this way, at least they can have some peace and quiet during the coming rainy season.

For the rest of the journey, Fu Ying chatted with him in a casual manner, but Teng frowned and looked absent-minded. He occasionally murmured a yes, his eyes always fixed on the distance.

Fu Ying suddenly moved sideways to stop him, tilting her head slightly with a hint of laughter in her eyes: "Are you angry?"

The oil-paper umbrella in Teng's hand was almost broken, and his knuckles turned white from the force.

His dark green eyes stared straight at Fu Ying, his voice low and hoarse, each word emphasized, as if squeezed out from between his teeth: "You said that you would give birth to cubs for me when you came back."

The cold ending of his voice trembled slightly, revealing a bit of loneliness and grievance.