Jing Hengbo startled in alarm, drinking several mouthfuls of water in succession, hurriedly trying to break free from him. But where could her strength compare to Gong Yin’s? The two were tightly entangled, unable to tear apart, water waves surging in succession. It looked as if Jing Hengbo was about to be dragged underwater by Gong Yin.

Jing Hengbo’s eyes widened—being a good person really doesn’t pay!

With Gong Yin’s mind unclear, her hands trapped, and lacking strength to struggle, was she really going to die so unjustly by being dragged down?

Jing Hengbo suddenly pressed her face forward.

She bit down hard on Gong Yin’s lips!

Then her hands wrapped around Gong Yin’s waist in reverse, her body pressing even more tightly against him, firmly pinning him down!

She didn’t believe he truly had no feelings at all. She didn’t believe this sanctimonious, ascetic hypocrite couldn’t be awakened by a woman’s dual-pronged charm offensive!

Gong Yin’s lips were cool, smooth, and soft, reminding her of fresh, rich jelly. She couldn’t help but bite, then lick—mmm, soft and bouncy, sweet and delicious…

His waist was lean yet firm, her hands gliding smoothly down its graceful curve.

Skin touching skin was like silk meeting silk, the natural harmony of all creation. The human body was like water—soft and beautiful, yet also like water—strong and vigorous. Their convergence and fusion sublimated into crystalline bubbles…

He opened his eyes almost immediately.

His distinct black and white pupils seemed to flash with a trace of deep blue light at the edges, making them appear even clearer—like the vast sky above snow-capped mountains, washed clean by celestial winds.

The next instant, he shot straight up through the water.

With a splash more violent than before, he burst through the water column in mid-air, blooming like a snow lotus.

He emerged from the lotus heart, unstained by worldly dust, his complexion pale as snow.

The next moment, both crashed heavily onto the riverbank. Jing Hengbo nearly bumped her nose painfully.

She rolled around somewhat reluctantly, staring at Gong Yin’s lips, thinking on one hand how this guy’s complexion was so poor yet his lips remained so fresh and enticing, while on the other hand thinking that jelly was truly something one never tired of eating—when would she get another chance to nibble?

He owed her so much already; one nibble shouldn’t matter, right? Not just anyone was willing to be nibbled by the great beauty Bobo.

However, taking advantage of a conscious Gong Yin wouldn’t be easy. Jing Hengbo lazily tried to get up, but the net on her back pulled her down with a thud. Only then did she realize this net was quite magical—it would loosen when touching water, but once out of water, the net cords immediately contracted even more tightly than before, binding her so she couldn’t move.

“Hey, you need to find a way to untie this net first,” Jing Hengbo said in exasperation, tugging at the net cords. “Otherwise, won’t I be taken advantage of by you every minute?”

Gong Yin opened his eyes to glance at her without speaking, his gaze clearly asking, “Who’s really taking advantage of whom?”

Jing Hengbo didn’t care—taking advantage was taking advantage, whether she took it or he took it, what was the difference?

“My true energy hasn’t recovered; I can’t untie the net,” he finally answered after a long pause.

“When will it recover?” she asked, grabbing his arm.

Gong Yin looked at her, thinking her eyes shone bright like a puppy’s.

A faint, strange emotion stirred in his heart—strange because of her.

He’d truly never seen someone like this. Call her timid, and she was—screaming loud enough to deafen people. Call her bold, and she was too—even facing death, she dared hurl rocks at heaven. Call her lewd, and she was—a woman looking at men with lustful, dazed eyes. Call her noble, and she was too—except for that unavoidable closeness underwater just now, she normally didn’t throw herself into men’s arms. She was beautiful, constantly encountering people who teased her with their gazes, yet she seemed indifferent, sometimes even flirting back with a charming glance, though the depths of her eyes clearly held disdain.

That final shout before the stone beam—he originally shouldn’t have listened, but inexplicably followed her command anyway, and indeed escaped certain death… She was truly a miraculous woman.

After falling into water, he had originally been practicing breath control to heal his injuries, not fearing drowning at all. Who knew she would drag him around, actually disrupting his meditation. To make her quiet down, he had planned to pretend drowning to hold her back, merely wanting to teach her to stay away from him, but who would have thought…

Thinking of that underwater scene, he couldn’t help recalling her cool, smooth, soft lips carrying wild, rich fragrance. That gentle bite was enough to shatter his peaceful world. Or perhaps it was that hazy moment when she pressed tightly against him, her body flowing like water, skin touching skin as if it would flow downward, like flowing across a stretch of moonlight. And near his heart was another kind of closeness and softness—breath and heaven and earth were instantly bound tenderly yet wildly, his heart also seemed to throb and gallop, like a horse racing across vast distances, his thoughts traveling thousands of miles in an instant…

He suddenly coughed softly, lowering his lashes.

Jing Hengbo curiously observed the faint blush on his handsome features—why was he blushing for no reason?

“Hey,” she asked carelessly, pursuing the question, “you still haven’t answered my question.”

Gong Yin circulated his energy, but his breathing became obstructed at his left chest. He frowned slightly, knowing his injuries were severe.

Although plans targeting Yelu Qi had been laid long ago, launching them during a rainy night was unexpected. In the vast, blinding rain, even he had been caught off guard. Seeing Jing Hengbo running forward with all her might, he never imagined anyone would run toward a cliff, naturally following her fall. Fortunately, he’d had some preparation, but the impact force was too great, and he’d already sustained internal injuries.

Afterward, striking the stone beam with over ten palm strikes had exhausted his true energy and caused backlash. His internal organs now felt hollow, his left arm was broken—injuries to muscles and bones meant his combat ability would be limited for some time, and he couldn’t unlock this “Heaven’s Rope,” a secret creation unique to the Yelu family.

“It won’t recover in the short term,” he said. “I can give you a chance to take care of me.”

“Bah,” she replied crisply.

“What about your guards? They should be able to find this place quickly.”

“No,” he answered. “Mud and rocks have blocked the passage over there, possibly even changing the mountain structure so it’s no longer passable. This side is now essentially a valley in a different mountain range. Whether they can even find it is questionable, and even if they could, there’s virtually no path to get here. In these vast mountains, who can guarantee they’ll climb over the right places?”

Jing Hengbo realized he was right and felt deflated.

“Do we have to be savages here? For how long? Three days? Five days? A month? Two months? Oh no! No! This kind of life isn’t suitable for me!”

“At least you still have a life,” Gong Yin said flatly. “You’d better think about how to deal with wild beasts first.”

“Wild beasts?”

Perhaps Jing Hengbo’s voice was too loud. Gong Yin paused before saying indifferently, “Well, they’re probably scared away by your screaming by now.”

“What do we do?” Jing Hengbo had no heart for verbal sparring with this sharp-tongued man, dejectedly rubbing her ankle. “No food, no drink, no outside help, and we’re injured—how can we survive in this wilderness?”

“I have a mouth, you have hands,” Gong Yin said, looking at her strangely. “What’s so difficult about getting by?”

“Why isn’t it ‘I have hands, you have a mouth’?” Jing Hengbo was going crazy—why did it sound like she was being assigned to do manual labor?

“That’s also possible,” Gong Yin glanced at her arms. “I’ll break both your arms so you don’t have hands anymore, then I can consider switching our roles.”

Jing Hengbo quickly pressed her arms to her chest, fearing this black-hearted fellow might suddenly turn violent and actually break her arms.

Her posture was rather improper, like a wordless seduction. Gong Yin immediately lowered his eyes, saying, “Let’s go. Find a place to rest first.”

Jing Hengbo looked at how tightly the net bound them together and asked bewilderedly, “How do we walk?”

“You carry me,” Gong Yin answered matter-of-factly.

Jing Hengbo felt like she’d gone deaf for a second. After that second, she discovered Master Gong’s expression was perfectly calm and natural.

Jing Hengbo looked up at the sky with a long sigh.

A master was indeed a master—his bearing and shamelessness were incomparable to ordinary people.

“You broke your hand, not your legs. Why can’t you walk yourself?”

Gong Yin looked at her strangely. “Do you think the two of us can walk like this?”

Two people in one net—trying to walk together would be even more difficult than one person walking alone.

“Then why don’t you carry me?”

“Because my feet are also injured, and because I need to seize time to meditate and recover. Only when I regain strength will we have more hope of survival.” Gong Yin glanced at her lightly. “As for you, even at full strength, you’re nothing more than beast excrement. It’s your honor that excrement can contribute some effort.”

You’re the excrement! Your whole family is excrement!

Jing Hengbo wanted to stomp that aloof face into excrement. But Gong Yin’s composed expression told her that if push came to shove, she would definitely be the one turned into excrement.

“How do I carry you?” She could only ask through gritted teeth, secretly plotting that a gentleman’s revenge could wait ten years.

With the two tightly entangled, she found it difficult even to get up.

“Figure it out yourself,” the master answered irresponsibly.

After mentally greeting his ancestors for three generations, Jing Hengbo finally found a solution. She lay on the ground and rolled several times, and through these rolling motions, Gong Yin was rolled onto her back like a quilt bundle.

The posture was rather unsightly. She peeked at Gong Yin’s expression through her arm gap, deciding that if he showed even a hint of mockery, she’d flip him into the river.

Fortunately, Gong Yin maintained his usual cool composure—at most his eyebrows twitched slightly. When his face was expressionless, he appeared noble and aloof, but once he showed any expression, it was like spring wind melting thousands of miles of frozen rivers, every inch like paradise in bloom. Jing Hengbo watched in fascination, her beauty-addled mind deciding that being manual labor wasn’t so bad after all.

She struggled for a long time without managing to get up. Getting from a lying position back to standing was already difficult, let alone with someone on her back. Suddenly, Gong Yin gently tapped her spine, and somehow, using some technique, she felt warmth flow into her back, her whole body becoming light and energetic, and she sprang up in one motion.

“Did you just transfer true energy to me?” Her eyes lit up. “Give me more, honey.”

“Using precious things lavishly on you would be sinful,” he replied.

Jing Hengbo wanted to slam him down hard again, but suddenly Gong Yin tugged at her braid, saying, “Move quickly.”

Jing Hengbo immediately felt like a horse being urged along, expecting the person on her head to shout next: “Giddyup!”

Her long hair was in glamorous, wild waves, braided into a ponytail for easier escape. Now the braid was gripped in his hand, driving her like a poor horse.

Bound by the net, she couldn’t walk fast. Fortunately, the net holes were large enough for her feet to extend through, but she could only shuffle bit by bit. Jing Hengbo despairingly wondered if she and Gong Yin would have to stay netted together like conjoined twins until rescue came.

At least Gong Yin looked tall but wasn’t heavy, so Jing Hengbo’s feet weren’t strained—though she didn’t know this was due to the true energy Gong Yin had given her.

Walking such rough, uneven terrain in high heels was truly torturous, yet Jing Hengbo was still grateful that at least her shoes were lace-up heels—otherwise, after all that cliff-falling and water-dunking, how could she have kept her only precious pair of shoes?

However, the next moment she heard Gong Yin say, “Change your shoes.”

“No way,” Jing Hengbo immediately refused.

“You won’t reach safety by nightfall walking like this,” Gong Yin’s fingers rested lightly on her throat, his voice very calm. “I generally don’t repeat myself to disobedient people.”

Not repeat himself—what did he plan to do instead?

Jing Hengbo seemed to hear her neck make a crisp “crack” sound.

She felt the person above could actually do it.

“Changing shoes!” She angrily stopped, pulled off the boots from his feet to put on, then took off her own shoes and stuffed them into his hands. “Hold these for me, don’t you dare lose them!”

While changing shoes, she muttered, “So stinky, so stinky!”

Of course this was a lie. Gong Yin’s boots were fresh and clean, and strangely, made from some unknown leather, soft and comfortable. The tops fitted tightly, automatically conforming to wrap around her calves like another layer of skin. Even the inside of the boots hadn’t gotten very wet, apparently having waterproof properties.

More miraculous still, the snow-white boots had naturally picked up plenty of mud and grass through all their adventures, but after walking a few steps, that mud and grass gradually fell away, leaving the boot surface spotless.

Discovering the boots’ magic, Jing Hengbo couldn’t help being curious. “What kind of leather is this? Damn, natural waterproof and stain-resistant functions!”

Gong Yin held her leopard-print high heels, studying the thin, awl-like heel while answering indifferently, “The hide of a certain beast from the Floating Marsh.”

“Clothes made from this beast hide would be so comfortable and stylish!” Jing Hengbo’s eyes sparkled, envisioning herself in gorgeous white fur, unstained by dust or snow, noble in bearing, a celestial fairy descended to earth…

“This beast appears once every ten years, possesses tremendous strength, spits poison, has claws like diamonds, is invulnerable to weapons throughout its body, and is naturally bloodthirsty—wherever it passes, nothing lives for a thousand li. Only the fur at its chest can be used; the rest is highly toxic. In the hundred years since the Floating Marsh tribe was established, they’ve only presented tribute of this hide to the royal city twice. It’s said each hunt required over a thousand soldiers with heavy casualties.”

“So precious!” Jing Hengbo said longingly. “Where’s the other hide? In the royal palace? It was given to the queen, right? Can I use it to make a scarf?”

“The other one,” Gong Yin studied the laces on her shoe, answering slowly, “I made into a hand towel.”

Jing Hengbo: “…”

She wanted to throw this extravagant, wasteful, tyrannically treasonous fellow hard into the mud!

However, in the end, she merely stomped Gong Yin’s boots extra hard into the muddy ground.

A strange mass moved along the riverbank—a woman struggling forward below, a man lounging leisurely in the middle, the man holding a pair of high heels in his hands, both wrapped in net gauze like a sack.

“You’re too slow,” the fellow said with closed eyes, the high heel straps swaying at his fingertips.

Jing Hengbo crossed her arms, not wanting to bicker, only wanting to execute an over-the-shoulder throw.

“Don’t go forward. Head west where there’s more vegetation,” the rider issued new commands to his mount.

“I think I see a cave ahead,” Jing Hengbo thought caves were essential props for protagonists’ encounters in all sorts of novels.

“If you want to live with fierce beasts, go by yourself.”

“The western forest is dense—aren’t there fierce beasts there too?” Jing Hengbo protested, not believing he could determine from such a distance that the cave contained wild animals. This fellow was clearly just trying to torment her.

“Women who talk too much are repulsive,” he replied.

Jing Hengbo grudgingly headed west. With more trees and vegetation in the forest, walking became even more difficult. She began feeling grateful for the shoe change—otherwise her feet would have been punctured long ago.

She was also somewhat puzzled. Having walked several li while carrying someone, not only did she not feel tired, but her chest, which had felt somewhat stifled from the cliff fall and tumbling, now felt much more comfortable.

However, Gong Yin on her back—though the master was being carried—didn’t seem to be enjoying it. He spoke very little, and when he occasionally did speak, there seemed to be faint weariness in his voice.

Best if his injuries flared up and he dropped dead! she thought maliciously.

This area had probably never been visited by humans. The vegetation was lush, tree trunks robust, with many century-old trees.

There seemed to be rustling sounds overhead. Leaves rustled chaotically, and Jing Hengbo looked up to see irregular patches of sky blocked by emerald branches and leaves, with what seemed like a dark shadow flashing past.

“It looks like… there’s something there!” she said in alarm.