Chapter 118 Honey Poison She subconsciously took a sip.
She subconsciously tiptoed, her face getting closer and closer to his. Her amber eyes were so clear in the sunlight that they looked as if they were coated with honey, and even her eyelashes sparkled with tiny lights when she lifted them.
—Her eyes were bright, like a little deer's.
Leng Xue stood frozen in place, feeling as if all the bones in his body had been shattered by the deer antlers, and his hands and feet were no longer under his control.
His pupils continued to contract, his body hair stood on end, and every muscle tensed as if it were about to break.
The light was so blinding that it almost made him feel threatened.
He chose to break through without hesitation.
He turned and left coldly, acting not only like a mute but also like a deaf person, with only his ripe ears revealing a trace of his thoughts.
Qi Tang was holding her sword, standing on tiptoe waiting for his reply, but to her surprise, he didn't say a word and turned to leave as if he'd seen a ghost. Are all swordsmen so stingy with words?
Her attempt to get off to a bad start caused her to lower her eyelids, muttering to herself, "How heartless!"
no.
She refused to believe that her lover's heart was made of iron.
She smiled, lifted her skirt, and followed closely behind him, playfully pestering him, "Young hero, are you really unwilling to accept this sword?"
"My name is Qitang. You haven't told me your name yet."
"Your face is sunburned, shall I wipe it off for you?"
A soft, sweet scent wafted over, and he hunched over, turning his head to the side, letting out a short, low growl as if to scare her away.
His grip on the sword hilt tightened, as if the words were coated with the poison of the Tang Clan, sizzling and corroding him, causing both pain and numbness.
In this world, nothing corrupts a person more than wealth, power, and beauty. And if you want to corrupt a swordsman, you naturally need to add a peerless sword to that list.
To corrupt a constable and teach him to work for one's own purposes is undoubtedly the wishful thinking of all villains.
Having handled countless cases with a cold-blooded approach, I've become accustomed to this tactic.
But didn't she know that his blood was cold?
He suppressed the rumbling sound of his ribs pounding, a hint of aggression in his eyes, and stepped back six feet, the tip of his sword embedding itself in the yellow sand, carving circular marks to signal her not to come any closer.
Qi Tang stared blankly at the 'encirclement' at her feet, blinking in surprise. This person was already keeping her at arm's length even though he didn't know she wasn't human. If he knew her true identity, wouldn't he have no chance at all?
She slowly raised her head, her voice tinged with a hint of grievance: "...How can you be so cold-blooded? I just wanted to give you a better sword, why won't I even talk to you?"
He knew, of course, that every word was part of a conspiracy.
Suppressing his agitation, Leng Xue sneered and turned away, saying, "Your mercy is sharper than my sword."
How could Qi Tang not hear the sarcasm in those words?
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes wide as she stared at his retreating figure, speechless for a moment. How could she have encountered such a rude person? How could he be so ungrateful?
hateful.
There were no more footsteps behind him. He tensed his muscles, his knuckles gripping the sword turning slightly white, but he did not turn around.
He never looks back.
**
Cool water trickled down his chin and into his collar. He tilted his head back, pursed his lips, and touched the red blisters on his cheek.
The surface felt rough and uneven to the touch. He subconsciously rubbed it hard with his fingertips, as if trying to completely flatten and compact the hill that rose from the flat ground.
For the first time, Leng Xue felt that he was no better off than a stray dog. He looked down, tugged at his mud-soaked clothes, and walked away without a word.
With a 'click', the wooden door was closed when a sword pried open the window and fell in silently.
Qitang the dog cautiously tapped the tip of its sword, scanned the old and simple guest room, and only breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that it did not see any green eyes.
A flash of purple light appeared, and she clasped her hands together, muttering to herself, "I'm stuck with you."
Her amber pupils darted slightly, and she turned her hands behind her back, her voice ethereal, "Do you know how many novels I've read!"
Giving up when faced with difficulties?
Yeah, right.
Cold-blooded was stuffed into a wolf's belly as an infant and raised in the harsh wilderness by wild wolves. On cold nights when he was young, he could only burrow into the belly of a wolf carcass for warmth.
He crawled on all fours, licking the mud and bones left behind by the wolves. He hid in the dry mud for days and nights, just to ambush the deer and bite through their throats.
Even after becoming a constable, he wore more blood-stained and mud-covered clothes than ordinary cloth clothes.
But for some reason today, I overlooked linen and cotton and silently chose a piece of brocade.
As he approached the door, he paused, turned halfway around, and unconsciously tightened his grip on his robe.
Since you've taken a government job, you can't be too disheveled and look like a beggar on the street.
He stared at the pattern on his shirt for a few moments, lost in thought, before finally pushing open the door.
Someone has been here.
His gaze suddenly turned cold, his nostrils twitched slightly, he gripped the hilt of his sword and walked inside, his steps light and swift but not hurried.
He had only taken three steps when his gaze shifted downwards, landing on the wooden table laden with food. —Cold-blooded, he couldn't even recall the name. Because to him, they were all the same; he only remembered the taste of drinking raw deer blood and eating raw rabbit liver.
That's the taste of being alive.
His expression remained unchanged. With a flash of sword light, the pale blue curtain was suddenly pierced through with a 'whoosh'.
Qi Tang was startled and instinctively bent over backward, the sword energy grazing her face.
She lost her balance and stumbled back two steps, landing on the wooden table and knocking over the bowls and plates on it.
The sound of shattered tiles filled the air as the sword tip rested against her neck. His voice was cold and hard: "Why are you here?"
Although the sword was full of nicks, if it were extended even a fraction further, it would undoubtedly take her life.
Leng Xue was waiting for her to explain, but instead, she opened her eyes wide like a cat jumping up and down, frantically crouching down and waving her hands wildly in the air, "Oh no, oh no, which one should I pick up first...?"
I picked it up as soon as it landed; it's still edible!
My crabapple cakes, pine nut cakes, milk cakes...
Tears and saliva flowed down his face.
It's over.
After struggling and hesitating for a few moments, she collapsed to the ground, dejectedly clutching their remains. "It's over, I missed it."
Leng Xue instinctively took a step forward.
She suddenly raised her head, meeting the downward-moving sword in her eyes as she looked at Leng Xue. "To waste such delicious pastries like this, we're committing a crime!"
Filled with righteous indignation.
Leng Xue looked away, his knuckles gripping the sword slightly bulging. "According to the law, anyone who enters another's house at night without cause shall be punished with forty strokes of the cane."
You are the one who committed the crime.
He lowered his voice and asked, "What is your purpose in following me all this way?"
Beneath her gauze sleeves, Qi Tang haphazardly pinched at some pastries. Hearing this, she said pitifully, "I like you, and I want to see you all the time. Can I stay by your side?"
There's plenty of time in the future, let's stick with him for now.
His breathing became heavy, but he did not answer. The sword moved forward an inch. "Who exactly are you?"
A wolf that has lived in darkness for a long time will only fear having its eyes burned when suddenly exposed to light.
Qi Tang turned her face away, staring intently into those deep green eyes, and puffed out her cheeks: "...If you don't like me, I won't tell you either."
Seeing something, she suddenly straightened up and leaned closer to him, completely ignoring the thin sword soaked in blood. "Why is your face so red?"
She moved a little closer.
—On that young, resolute face, faint fingerprints were visible, and some of the rashes had been rubbed raw, turning large red patches.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively gathered a small ball of spiritual energy, carefully pressing it against the wound. "How did you break it? It must hurt so much."
A wisp of hot air blew from her pink fingertips, scorching his face.
His blue eyes suddenly rippled, and he abruptly turned his head as if dodging an oncoming sword.
A sudden, inexplicable rage surged through him. He pursed his lips, pressing the tip of his sword against her heart. "Whatever your purpose, stop following me."
Whether it's the Mobei case or others.
Qi Tang glanced at the sword blade in front of her chest, hesitated for a moment whether to charge into it.
The new owner is far too wary; it's outrageous that even a peerless weapon can become unsellable.
She looked up and tentatively asked in a low voice, "What if I insist on following you?"
He remained silent, lowering his head expressionlessly. Suddenly, he ripped open his mud-soaked black shirt, exposing his scarred chest to the air.
His chest muscles were clearly defined, but deep scars cut them off, one after another, densely covering them, leaving almost no gaps.
His emerald green eyes suddenly turned deep and dark. He raised his hand, his fingertips digging into the flesh, tearing open the old scar without warning.
He excels at this: tearing apart his prey, biting through the throat, and ripping himself apart.
He is a wolf in human skin.
A chilling sound of flesh being torn apart echoed in the air. He showed no mercy, as if he were tearing apart not his own chest, but raw meat waiting to be processed on a cutting board.
Thick, fresh blood gushed out, only to be swallowed whole by the filthy black shirt. A familiar pain pierced his heart, and his pupils dilated slightly as he clearly heard the sound of life flowing through him.
He is alive.
He increased the pressure, as if that wasn't enough, while his eyes remained fixed on her, not missing any change in her expression.
He wanted to scare her away, but his heart tightened silently, without him even realizing it.
Qi Tang's mind went blank. Amidst the overwhelming smell of blood, she grabbed the hand that was churning inside her flesh and blood. "What are you doing!"
The moment the delicate palm touched him, his old wound suddenly throbbed with pain. The snowy night and the howling of wolves flashed before his eyes, like a cleaver cutting into his heart, severing his reason, severing everything he had.
His pupils contracted, and amidst the cacophony of sharp noises in his ears, his eyes reddened as he reached out, intending to tear apart and bite off the blood-soaked neck before him, to drink its blood raw.
Like hunting deer.
Fearing he might hurt himself again, Qi Tang quickly gripped his hand tightly. In her panic, she lost control of her strength, and her fingertips dug into his palm, piercing a gash like a sword blade.
Blood gushed out, and this light, fleeting pain somehow held him in place.
With a shudder, Leng Xue grabbed her instead, suddenly exerting force to make her thrust in, deeper and deeper.
They are interconnected.
His chest heaved.
Qi Tang stood there, stunned.
She is a sword, and her body is made of black iron, born to pierce flesh and blood.
But why is his heart beating so fast?
She looked at the tear in his chest, where the bone was faintly visible. Had his heart been injured?
She hesitated for a moment, then lowered her head, her lips containing a small ball of spiritual energy, and carefully pressed it against her.
A moment later, there was no gap.
The soft, wet blood and flesh gently enveloped her lips, the thick, fresh blood seeping into the creases of her lips, wetting the tip of her tongue, both fishy and sweet.
It smelled like her master. She instinctively took a sip.
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