The black-robed man behind her was momentarily ensnared by the strange fragrance, and for a brief moment it seemed as though he could not pursue her.
This time, Feng Jiu’er ran with every last ounce of life she had, fleeing with desperate abandon. It did not matter where she ended up — as long as she could first shake off the black-robed man, she would have a chance to survive.
But she had still been too naive. With a single sweep of his long sleeve, the black-robed man dispersed the strange fragrance entirely, and in an instant it vanished without a trace.
Jiu’er had barely covered a few dozen zhang before a cold wind suddenly struck from behind.
This time, the cold wind carried within it a rich, profound inner energy. Before the true force even reached her, Feng Jiu’er felt as though every single thing in the world had completely fused together into one.
She could not take another step. The black-robed man’s inner energy was like an invisible net, encasing her entire being. The net did not merely fall from above and press down — it also converged from all four sides and every direction, growing tighter and tighter, binding all her meridians, even ensnaring her internal organs.
Pain. Growing sharper with every passing moment. The more she struggled, the more agonizing it became.
An invisible hand seemed to close around her throat. As his five fingers clenched, her breathing stopped completely.
Every part of her body was in agony. Blood seeped from the corner of her lips, sliding along her jaw and down her neck — vivid crimson against her fair skin, shockingly stark.
This time, there would be no rescue from the Ninth Imperial Uncle. He was surely still exerting every effort to save Mu Mu.
This time, saving herself would be equally futile. Every meridian throughout her body — would they be shattered by his invisible palm force, just as they had been before?
The sensation of standing at death’s threshold was truly unbearable. To die all at once might have been a mercy.
But she — Feng Jiu’er — could not be such a cowardly existence. Even knowing full well she faced certain death, she could not simply give up.
She pressed her fingertips around a silver needle. Though even so simple an action as lifting her arm was nearly beyond her, she raised it in the end.
Her wrist turned with great effort. A flash of silver sliced silently through the air — almost without a sound.
The black-robed man gazed at the silver needle that had fallen to the ground not far in front of him, and nearly found himself wanting to applaud this girl.
For someone of Feng Jiu’er’s cultivation level to have held on until now without losing consciousness was no small feat. Yet not only had she not collapsed — she had even managed to strike back at him. It was nothing short of a miracle.
But this silver needle of hers meant absolutely nothing to him. With cultivation so much weaker than his own, what could she possibly do to him?
“This lord has no intention of letting you die just yet. Don’t be afraid.” Seeing Feng Jiu’er sink to one knee — truly spent — the black-robed man gave a faint smile and withdrew his palm force.
But what he could never have anticipated — no matter how he might have imagined it — was that the moment he withdrew his force, Jiu’er, who had appeared to lack even the strength to remain kneeling, twisted her wrist and sent another flash of silver shooting out.
The black-robed man had his guard down entirely. He had been about to go over and take her away, and so the silver needle — he did not dodge it.
With a soft snap, the thinnest of sounds, the cord of the mask on the black-robed man’s face was struck by the needle and snapped clean apart.
Feng Jiu’er’s eyes went wide, desperate to see his face clearly — but even as the mask fell, the black-robed man drove a palm strike toward her.
In the darkness, she caught only the briefest impression: a handsome face, the complexion not especially pale, but with features that were striking and well-defined.
That was the only thing Feng Jiu’er could take in — not because she was truly that shallow, judging men solely on their looks, but simply because there was no opportunity to see any more.
That palm strike landed on her from a distance, and she felt a violent upheaval surge through her chest. Then her eyes closed, and she fell into complete unconsciousness.
The black-robed man walked over to where she lay. In the moonlight, that face was strikingly handsome.
Yet as he gazed down at Jiu’er, his eyes were utterly cold.
He had underestimated this girl. He had not expected that under the crushing pressure of his overwhelming inner energy, she would still find room to struggle — and even to fight back.
That needle, just now — had the mask not been there to intercept it, it would likely have struck his face.
This woman! She was ten times more tenacious than he had imagined. Her strength of will was extraordinary — of all the women he had ever encountered, she was the most formidable.
Still, her inner energy cultivation was ultimately not powerful enough. For if her martial strength were as exceptional as her will, her perseverance, and her intelligence… someone like that, in time, could well contend for a share of the realm itself.
He crouched down and lifted Feng Jiu’er carelessly into his arms. She was unconscious — truly this time — her breath faint and thin, her injuries clearly not light.
Zhan Qingcheng had not followed her out. To think he had allowed this girl to go out alone — that was somewhat surprising.
He had not revealed himself until now precisely because he had wanted to see where she would lead him to find her Ninth Imperial Uncle, and to see whether her Ninth Imperial Uncle would come to meet her.
He simply had not anticipated that, from beginning to end, she would be entirely alone.
The black-robed man cast one final glance at Feng Jiu’er, then with a light push of his foot, leaped over the treetops and vanished into the night……
……
With a thud, something fell just outside the door.
The matron who had been attending to Nanmen Rong gave a slight start, and her expression immediately darkened. “I wonder which one with no eyes tripped and fell out there. This servant will go take a look.”
Nanmen Rong was reclining on her bed, having just taken her medicine. She was somewhat recovered, her color a little better than before.
The matron departed, and Nanmen Rong paid it little mind. She had been focusing on recuperating lately, hoping to recover as soon as possible so she could leave her chambers.
A’Jiu had met with disaster, and her father and the Emperor had together sealed off the Ninth Prince’s Manor. Were it not for the Empress Dowager Ning’s status as Empress Dowager — a status that posed no real threat to the Nanmen clan — even the Empress Dowager might not have been able to protect herself. That craven Emperor did not dare use the Empress Dowager as bait to lure the Ninth Prince out — doing so would earn him an eternal reputation of infamy.
Nanmen Rong was naturally not worried about the Empress Dowager’s safety. What she feared was that if A’Jiu returned to find the Empress Dowager had suffered some harm, she did not know whether A’Jiu would blame her for failing to protect those he cared for while he was in danger.
Though A’Jiu had constantly hurt her in the past, that was all because of Feng Jiu’er — that vixen — stirring up trouble between them.
If not for that, in all the years past, A’Jiu had never truly done anything truly cruel to her.
Thinking back now, it was Feng Jiu’er’s doing all along. When Feng Jiu’er had not been around, A’Jiu had truly been very good to her.
“My Lady!” The matron had gone out but suddenly came rushing back in a panic, staring at Nanmen Rong with an expression of absolute shock. “My Lady, outside… outside…”
“What has happened?” The matron had been serving at her side for so many years — how could she still be so flustered? She was worse than a young palace maid!
The matron was not truly this scatterbrained. It was simply that when something surpassed all expectations, it was genuinely difficult to remain calm.
“My Lady, outside… outside, it’s Feng Jiu’er!”