Chapter 32 Does it hurt?
A tiny doll had somehow landed on Jiang Zhishui's shoulder. Hearing Jing Qianheng's voice, she turned her head. The doll held a sword blade the size of a needle in its hand, and its small head turned towards Jiang Zhishui.
The puppet raised the "needle" and stabbed it into Jiang Zhishui's throat.
Jiang Zhishui caught it in time and threw it to the ground. She covered her neck with her hand, where a small cut had already been made.
The little doll fell to the ground, stood up, and disappeared in a flash.
At the end of the pitch-black street, a sinister and terrifying atmosphere prevailed.
Jiang Zhishui looked at the blood on her palms, then suddenly felt a sharp pain in her foot. "What is that?"
She looked down and saw another doll dressed in black chopping at her feet with a small axe.
"Ahhh, what's going on!" She jumped away, trying to kick the worm-like doll off her feet.
Several small creatures buzzed out of the house next door. Jiang Zhishui was still in shock when several small stones hit her face. She raised her hand to block them, but the flying stones attacked from all directions, leaving her with bumps all over her head.
Jiang Zhishui dodged left and right, looking quite disheveled. Those tiny, insect-like dolls quietly crawled onto her body, burrowed into her clothes to bite, and used sharp objects to stab various parts of her body.
She was itchy all over and panicked, so much so that she threw down her sword and started slapping her body, sometimes hitting her face, sometimes her hands, before rushing toward Jing Qianheng in a terrified state.
"Your Highness! Your Highness!! Help me!!"
Those little creatures were incredibly agile, darting in and out of the way, and they could even fly. Jiang Zhishui had no spiritual energy to protect her, so she could only try to catch them with her bare hands, but she couldn't, and her whole body ached terribly.
Jing Qianheng saw her acting like a madwoman, shouting and yelling, pulling her hair and shaking her head, even taking off her clothes. He wanted to help her, but she suddenly ran away. Just as he was getting anxious, he looked up and saw her pounce on him.
In that instant, a scene flashed through his mind, and he froze.
Jiang Zhishui threw herself into his arms, wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, pressed herself against him, and buried her face completely in his chest.
The moment the two embraced, all the little dolls fell to the ground with a clatter, as if they had lost their life force, leaving only empty shells scattered all over the ground.
Jiang Zhishui clung tightly to Jing Qianheng's waist, making him gasp for breath.
Jiang Zhishui's heart was pounding. Having finally been rescued, she tightened her grip even more.
She looked up at Jing Qianheng, who struggled uncomfortably for a moment, then lowered his eyes and glanced away slightly.
Jiang Zhishui's legs felt weak. She lowered her head, rested her forehead against Jing Qianheng's chest, and let out a heavy sigh of relief.
Jing Qianheng tried to pry the hands off his back: "Are you done yet? Let go."
Jiang Zhishui took a step forward, and Jing Qianheng was pushed back by her. She stepped between his legs and said in a cold voice, "Your Highness, I'm sorry, but I will never let go, even if it kills me."
After saying that, she interlocked her fingers, ready to use brute force.
Jing Qianheng grabbed her wrist and pulled her away, his breath unsteady as he said, "Those things are all gone, you... let go first."
Jiang Zhishui resisted him, pressing her body even closer. "No, they only bite me, not you. If I let go, they'll pounce on me again. I really can't stand these things... They scare me to death, and they hurt me terribly."
Jing Qianheng didn't know where she got the strength from, but she hugged him so tightly that he couldn't breathe, so he had no choice but to give in and let go.
Jiang Zhishui's tense body relaxed slightly only when she saw that he had stopped exerting himself.
Looking at her messy hair, Jing Qianheng said helplessly, "So how long are you planning to hold her? Are you going to just stand here and not move?"
Jiang Zhishui looked up, her expression blank: "That's true, we can't keep holding her like this."
At this moment, the dark clouds dispersed, and in the cold moonlight, Jing Qianheng saw a bloodstain on one side of her face, a bruise on the other, and blood still flowing from her neck.
Her delicate skin was flushed with a bluish tinge, and her hair was disheveled and scattered across her forehead. She looked so pitiful and disheveled that it was hard not to feel sorry for her. A pair of crystal-clear eyes stared at him expectantly. Jiang Zhishui blinked and loosened her grip on his waist slightly.
Jing Qianheng was somewhat dazed. He involuntarily reached out and gently stroked the bloodstain on her cheek with his fingertips, asking softly, "Does it hurt?"
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