Deep night, the moon like a hook.

The palace quarters had returned to silence.

No matter how earth-shaking the changes, no matter how wildly the blood was spilled, time would erase it all—it might not even be recorded in history.

Hewan had gained control of the palace.

As the Xiang ruler’s most beloved daughter, she even knew where the imperial seal and royal secret seal were located, smoothly issuing royal decrees and controlling the city’s military power. She severely wounded and imprisoned the Xiang queen, and moved the crown prince to another palace.

But there was a mishap when surrounding and capturing Fei Luo. Though they seized her, she escaped during transport to the imperial prison. Fei Luo had an ambiguous relationship with the old ruler and was extremely familiar with the palace, having even planted many hidden agents and pawns there. Three people in succession wore masks similar to hers, confusing the pursuers and helping her escape the court.

However, though she escaped with her life, her prestige as female chancellor was gone. Hewan immediately issued orders removing her from the female chancellor position, with Yong Xizheng taking over.

When Hewan reported to Gong Yin, she was somewhat uneasy, but Gong Yin seemed unconcerned, saying only: “Releasing deer into the wild allows all beasts to hunt them together.”

When he said this, he was gazing up at the bright moon, his cheeks glowing like moonlight.

Hewan didn’t quite understand the State Preceptor’s meaning. He seemed not to care about Fei Luo’s life or death. The deer referred to Fei Luo? The grand Xiang Kingdom female chancellor was just a deer in his eyes? He released the deer for the “beasts” to hunt? To train his claws and fangs? Then who were the “beasts”?

Puzzled, yet not daring to ask. Looking at this man’s motionless back, she felt mountain-like pressure bearing down, not daring to act presumptuously.

This person was not much older than her—how had he grown to this point? How difficult and arduous had his journey been? To reach where he was today, how much heartbreaking pain and treacherous wounds had he endured?

He saw through emotions so clearly, could see the cold future that love faced behind royalty—what about himself? Had he ever had a deeply etched… love?

She respectfully took leave of Gong Yin. Walking out the door, she suddenly thought of Jenny, wondering where she had gone. She had helped her so much but hadn’t had a chance to thank her yet.

Stepping outside the hall, she suddenly stopped.

Under the moonlight, before the long corridor, Yong Xizheng stood silently, facing the palace buildings in a waiting posture.

Night dew had dampened his shoulders, frost had condensed between his brows, yet when he looked up at her, his expression remained gentle.

Hewan stared at him intently, for a moment experiencing myriad emotions.

What she had once wanted to keep flowed away like water, while what she had once wanted to push away always waited in the same place. What truly lasted forever—perhaps only time could provide the answer.

After a long while, she took a breath, also blooming a slight smile, lifting her skirts and gently walking toward him.

…

Gong Yin never turned around.

Meng Hu quietly appeared behind him.

“Master, why did you…”

Gong Yin raised his palm, and Meng Hu dared not speak further, only lowering his head, concealing the deep sorrow and pity in his eyes.

“Is it ready?” Gong Yin suddenly asked out of nowhere.

“It’s ready,” Meng Hu immediately answered, reaching up to wipe his collar, frowning.

Gong Yin nodded, waving for him to withdraw. As Meng Hu turned to leave, he couldn’t help but sigh deeply in his heart.

…

So hot… so cold… so stuffy… so fishy…

Chaotic and complex sensations surged in waves. Her body was in a strange alternation of perceptions—unable to move, yet consciousness was exceptionally clear. It seemed every hair could sense the current dark surroundings, the humid environment, soft straw beneath her, water droplets slowly seeping from the walls, wall plaster eroded by moisture falling in flakes, distant faint lamplight embedded in stone walls as bronze lamps…

Jing Hengbo suddenly opened her eyes.

Before her was indeed as she had sensed—darkness, dampness, warm and dry soft straw beneath her.

It felt like a prison cell?

She lay spread-eagle, chuckling twice—damn, prison seemed to be one of the must-visit locations for transmigrating heroines after their home travel adventures of killing, arson, swindling, and trafficking.

After lying for a while, the circumstances before she fainted gradually returned. She remembered the gray mist from that black creature entering her mouth—it felt like a very powerful poison. Why wasn’t she dead yet?

Could it be because she had poison in her body, allowing a cliché poison-fighting-poison scenario?

She assessed her condition, feeling she was in an indescribable state—uncomfortable, alternately hot and cold inside, as if several air currents were attacking each other, making her nauseous.

She tried using her yoga breathing techniques to guide the internal air currents, but the more she guided, the more chaotic it became. Her insides were in turmoil, even her brain stopped working, so she had to lie still.

Observing her surroundings, this cell had a stone slab floor, with stone walls on all four sides. It was very deep, with windows opened high above. There might be only one door, far away in the corridor. The cell door and bars were iron, with locks thick as arms—clearly a prison for top-level serious criminals. Even a group of masters wouldn’t easily break in.

She was somewhat puzzled—how had she ended up in prison? She hadn’t committed any capital crimes, had she? Was it a crime to rush out and rescue Hewan?

Thinking of Hewan, her heart tightened—could it be that Hewan had failed? Was she also thrown into prison? So she, who had rushed out to help Hewan, was implicated?

It seemed that was the case.

Jing Hengbo sighed, feeling that sometimes fate was just that harsh—no matter how thoroughly you prepared, you couldn’t withstand heaven’s casual manipulations.

Unable to move for now, she accepted the situation, trying to regulate her breathing while observing her surroundings. Finding joy in suffering, she thought of those melodramatic romance novels she’d read before. In prison, heroines always encountered strange cellmates—like in some novel about shaking something empress, where the heroine was imprisoned several times, meeting peerless masters who had waited for her for years, and her mother’s old lovers who knew her background. Masters and secrets everywhere, melodrama scattered all around. Now she was in prison herself, with emptiness on both left and right—clearly the entire prison was empty. Damn, where were the masters? Where were the background revealers? If masters couldn’t come, even a cockroach would be good!

Speaking of cockroaches…

Jing Hengbo again noticed something wrong. This prison was very prison-like outside—gloomy and damp—but the cell itself was quite clean. The legendary friendly neighbors like rats and cockroaches were completely absent, not even a blade of grass on the floor. The straw beneath her seemed freshly changed, still emitting the warm scent of sunshine.

Probably a high-class cell in the imperial prison.

Jing Hengbo closed her eyes, preparing to sleep for a while. After resting up, she’d find something to smash the skylight. She figured Yelu Qi should be waiting there soon.

The moment she closed her eyes, she suddenly felt something was wrong. She abruptly opened them again, staring in shock at the foot of her bed.

At her feet was a high pile of straw that had originally covered half the wall.

Now this pile of straw was slowly rising higher and higher. The straw on top slid down with rustling sounds, all falling on her.

Then she heard a “pop.”

Then she stared dumbfounded as a person crawled out from the foot of her bed.

…

In a prison cell, alone in the deep of night, seeing a pitch-black person suddenly crawl out from the foot of your bed—that feeling was truly horrifying.

Complete horror movie scenario.

Jing Hengbo discovered that when truly frightened, people couldn’t scream—throat tightening, muscles stiffening, all strength concentrated in the eyes, desperately trying to bulge them out.

That pitch-black person crawled out but seemed even more startled than her, crying “Ah!” and bumping backward against the wall.

He looked around, seeming to realize this environment was wrong, then turned to burrow back down.

This movement immediately gave Jing Hengbo courage—not a ghost, but a person!

“Stop!” she immediately shouted sternly.

That person’s whole body shook. He stopped and slowly turned around.

By the dim, gloomy lamplight, Jing Hengbo finally discovered this fellow looked pitch-black because he wore black tight-fitting clothes and a hooded mask, revealing only a pair of eyes.

This was clearly a nighttime thief’s outfit.

At this moment she was lying down while he stood, so from her angle, she could see the man’s good figure wrapped in the tight night clothes—inverted triangular shoulders and back, narrow waist and long legs, sharp lines throughout, slightly lean yet conveying the flexibility and elasticity of the body beneath the clothes. Truly a beautiful physique.

Jing Hengbo wondered if this was trained through frequent nighttime activities?

After being called to stop, the person calmed down after his initial shock, looked around, shook his head and muttered to himself: “Bad luck! How did I dig to this place?”

Hearing this, Jing Hengbo understood—this was a thief skilled at tunnel digging, who had somehow dug his tunnel to beneath this prison.

She was currently disguised as a man, convincing enough to pass as real, so she wasn’t worried about him having improper thoughts. She quickly roughened her voice: “Brother, meeting is fate. Since you’re here, going back empty-handed doesn’t fit your business philosophy, right? How about taking me along when you leave?”

“No way.” He flatly refused. “My tunnel is very narrow. I have to use bone-shrinking techniques to squeeze through. You can’t make it.”

“How about working a bit harder to expand the tunnel?” Jing Hengbo observed his expression. “Of course, I won’t let you work for nothing. After we get out, I’ll thank you with plenty of silver.”

But that person came over and sat beside her, saying: “No way. I suddenly don’t plan to leave.”

“Huh?”

“You think I came to steal things?” That fellow glared at Jing Hengbo. “Who would steal things in the royal palace’s imperial prison? I’m being pursued by enemies with nowhere to hide, so I thought of a good idea—hide in some empty palace room for a while. Who knew I misjudged the location and actually dug under the prison. But prison is prison—it’s the same, maybe even safer.”

Jing Hengbo was immediately disappointed, rolling her eyes: “There will be prison inspections here. Don’t blame me when you’re discovered.”

“This is a maximum security prison that rarely holds criminals. Once someone’s imprisoned here, they’re mostly waiting to die. There might not be anyone coming for ten days to half a month.” The person said, “When you’re dragged out for execution, I’ll leave.”

Jing Hengbo snorted, thinking that having someone to talk to in the boring deep prison wasn’t bad. Of course, since this fellow was so callous, she definitely wouldn’t take him when she left.

After arranging everything to his satisfaction, that fellow suddenly stood up: “Move over, make room for me to sleep.”

“Huh?” Jing Hengbo, who had just lain flat, nearly jumped up.

“Huh what?” That fellow looked at her strangely. “The ground is so cold, your straw bed is so big—what’s wrong with squeezing together?”

“No way!”

“Why not? You’re not a woman.” That fellow got onto the straw bed uninvited, suddenly pausing to look at Jing Hengbo suspiciously. “You’re not really a woman, are you? Do you have a beard?” After saying this, he seemed about to reach out and touch Jing Hengbo’s chin and neck.

Jing Hengbo quickly pressed her chin down, eagerly patting the straw pile: “Of course not! I’m just used to sleeping alone and need time to adjust. Come on, come sleep!”

“Mm.” That fellow unceremoniously lay down beside her, seeming very tired. To Jing Hengbo’s relief, he slept quite peacefully without getting very close to her—there was enough space between them for another person.

Jing Hengbo secretly pressed her finger against her calf, where a dagger was always hidden.

In this lifetime, in any environment, she would never again lose vigilance toward anyone.

The man beside her originally had mud and straw on him, emitting an unpleasant smell, but when he brushed off the dirt and lay down, she suddenly discovered this person had a very special, pleasant scent—carrying a hint of coolness, with a slight medicinal fragrance that had a calming power.

Too calming…

So calming that her eyes were about to close… so sleepy… how could she suddenly be so drowsy…

Fatigue surged like a tide, consciousness sinking bit by bit into darkness. She struggled against the sleepiness but was still irresistibly dragged into sweet dreams. Her heart vaguely sensed something wrong. Gritting her teeth and thinking it was better to kill wrongly than let go, she drew her dagger and slowly moved it forward, forward…

Before the dagger reached its target, a huge drowsiness struck. Her fingers went soft, her eyes closed.

She fell asleep.

In the darkness, hazily, a long sigh seemed to sound.

Or perhaps not.

…

Jing Hengbo felt she awakened quickly.

This “quickly” shouldn’t have been an illusion, because when she opened her eyes, she saw a water droplet flowing down the opposite wall that hadn’t yet reached the bottom.

The fellow beside her was sleeping, seeming even more tired than her, breathing heavily.

Jing Hengbo felt it was funny and inexplicable to suddenly be sleeping together with such a stranger in Xiang Kingdom’s royal palace prison.

But even more inexplicable was that with such a person sleeping beside her, hearing his exhausted deep breathing in the silence, she suddenly felt very secure, warm and clear-minded.

She had thought she could never sleep peacefully beside anyone again, but unexpectedly a stranger could give her restful sleep.

Perhaps precisely because he was a stranger.

She looked at his sleeping face with some envy. This cautious fellow didn’t remove his mask even while sleeping, but his brows were peaceful, showing he was having good dreams.

She hadn’t had good dreams in a long time. Though she could fall asleep, there were too many nightmares.

When thinking of the word “nightmares,” she suddenly felt pain in her abdomen.

The strange air current in her body seemed finally stirred, suddenly erupting, gathering into a small whirlpool in her dantian, roaring and swirling, making her stomach feel like it was turning upside down.

She was in so much pain she almost curled up.

The sleeping man beside her suddenly turned over. While turning, his arm swung in a circle and smacked right onto her stomach.

Jing Hengbo thought her belly must have been smashed to pieces.

But simultaneously, there seemed to be a “pop” inside her body. That small whirlpool exploded.

The pain suddenly dispersed.

Her curled body instinctively stretched out. She somewhat bewilderedly touched her belly—it was burning where that fellow had hit her, but the severe pain in her stomach had suddenly disappeared.

Should she scold him or thank him?

Jing Hengbo turned her head to see him sleeping deeply, seemingly completely unaware that he had unconsciously resolved his bedmate’s crisis.

Jing Hengbo decided neither to thank nor scold him—they were even.

She closed her eyes, preparing to try regulating her breathing. The poisonous mist hadn’t dispersed yet and might flare up anytime.

The mixed air currents in her body seemed to constrain the poisonous mist but couldn’t completely suppress it, so the mist formed into a restless mass like a bomb ready to explode at any moment.

While thinking this, she suddenly felt heat from abdomen to chest, as if something shot up violently, then gathered into a small mass in her chest.

Terrible!

She immediately knew that in the next moment, this whirlpool would start churning and might grind up her lungs and heart!

She forcefully mobilized her internal energy. In this emergency, she performed beyond normal—the energy she could usually only mobilize in thin threads suddenly moved fiercely. She could feel a scorching, substantial energy flow from her dantian moving upward against its natural direction, directly pursuing the whirlpool.

Normally she would be ecstatic, because this was what Yi Qi had told her was the sign of possessing internal force: opening meridians, regulating energy flow. With this step, her meridians would be stronger than ordinary people’s in the future, and internal force cultivation would become possible. Though much slower, many techniques based on this foundation could be practiced.

But at this moment she had no time for joy, because though she had mobilized it, she couldn’t catch up!

The whirlpool rose, severe pain arose!

The person beside her suddenly made another big turn!

“Smack.” That fellow loved swinging his arms when turning over, like swinging a big shovel while digging tunnels. His arm heavily struck her… chest.

Shock once, ripple thrice.

Jing Hengbo was in so much pain she nearly screamed.

That fellow’s arm pressed heavily on her chest. Even worse, this time he didn’t immediately remove it but pressed down.

If Jing Hengbo could move, she would definitely stab him.

She was already feeling around for her knife, finding the blade that had fallen onto the straw bed earlier, preparing to stab him when she suddenly froze.

Why didn’t it hurt anymore?

The whirlpool was spinning—the next step should be severe pain. Where was the pain?

Also, where was the chest whirlpool? When did it dissipate?

Good grief, had this fellow accidentally dispersed it again with his fumbling?

Jing Hengbo’s fingers stiffened, the dagger fell back onto the straw pile, and she was stunned for a long while, feeling this world was truly fantastical.

She pondered the fantastical nature of the world for quite some time, even forgetting that the fellow’s arm was still pressed on her chest. Mainly because it was actually quite comfortable—a warm energy came through his touch, and she discovered the whirlpool was dissipating.

No, wait.

That small whirlpool in her body had indeed been repeatedly disrupted and was about to scatter, but it seemed… to be scattering into her meridians.

Almost immediately, she felt her arm go numb.

She silently cursed—this poison seemed to have consciousness of its own, transferring battlefields. Once it scattered into her limbs and bloodstream, would she become paralyzed?

She couldn’t help but look at her bedmate—hey, why don’t you turn over again?

That fellow didn’t turn over, but just closed his eyes and snuggled forward, draping his arm over her shoulder and stepping one leg forward to rest on her legs. Like hugging a koala, he embraced her in his arms.

Jing Hengbo was completely nestled in his embrace, her head against his chest, able to smell the faint grass fragrance and subtle masculine scent emanating from his body. She felt uncomfortable all over—in her entire life so far, she had never been this close to anyone.

His warmth came through his skin, pressing against her until she could barely breathe.

She wanted to push him away, but felt the poison in her body was moving around. Wherever it went, that part would go numb, but that numbness seemed to encounter some obstacle and immediately dispersed again. This pattern of numbness and relief, relief and numbness, felt strange like being electrified. That electric sensation slowly spread from her limbs to inside her body to her lower abdomen. Her body suddenly seemed to develop a light itching and hidden burning sensation. A thin layer of sweat appeared on her forehead, and she dared to move even less.

Not daring to move, yet hearing her own uncontrollable panting, fine sounds echoing in this dark cell like murmurs, like moans, like coquettish invitations. She felt both ashamed and annoyed, wanting to struggle free, wanting to jump up, wanting to get far away from this embrace, but couldn’t move. She could only pray this fellow was truly asleep.

She anxiously looked up at him. A normal man, holding a woman, should notice something wrong when awake, especially hearing such breathing. And once a normal man discovered she was a woman, he should have some reaction at this moment…

He still slept quietly, the skin exposed outside his mask slightly pale, his eyelashes thick and black.

He looked very normal.

She felt slightly relieved—if he were awake, he couldn’t have such self-control.

Her raised eyelashes brushed against the skin of his neck. She slightly shifted, and looking up, saw the color of his mask seemed to have darkened a bit. She was puzzled when suddenly his arm lifted in his sleep and fell heavily again, patting her shoulder.

Her shoulder shook, and she felt something “pop” inside her body. The poison gas wandering through her limbs suddenly exploded, and countless joints and meridians suddenly hurt intensely.

“Ah!” Her body shuddered.

“Bang.” That fellow’s body was bounced away, catapulted from the straw pile and fell to the ground.

Jing Hengbo half-rose to look at him. He rolled over, sat up, his eyes dazed.

Jing Hengbo felt slightly relieved, then realized she could move now. The sudden explosion of poison gas in her limbs had apparently expelled much of it.

But her range of movement wasn’t large—she could only sit up slightly. Still, it was a good sign.

“What happened?” He seemed to have been disturbed from deep sleep, quite grumpy from being woken, his voice muffled as he grumbled.

Jing Hengbo suddenly felt he shouldn’t be very old. They say people are most unguarded and genuine in the moment they wake up, and this person gave her a feeling of harmlessness at this moment.

“You have terrible sleeping posture,” she said. “Drooling, snoring, and thrashing around so much you threw yourself out of bed.”

That fellow dusted off his clothes and got up. His movements were very tired, as if sleep hadn’t restored him. Jing Hengbo was afraid he’d come back to sleep, and was thinking of ways to refuse when she suddenly heard sounds from beneath her feet.

She was stunned, remembering that her feet seemed to be where this person had crawled up from a hole.

“What’s that sound?” She wanted to sit up and look.

The black-clothed man walked over to look. The ground was stone slabs, with one already lifted. He looked down and then said: “Nothing, just rats.” He slammed the stone slab back down.

When the stone slab was covered, Jing Hengbo thought she heard rolling sounds from beneath it, quite loud—not something rats could cause.

She was still craning her neck when that fellow looked at her and simply sat down on the stone slab, beginning to meditate.

She had to give up resentfully.

Beneath the stone slab.

Yelu Qi glared angrily upward.

He had followed to this prison early. To obtain medicine that could counteract the black chi’s poison had delayed him a bit. After getting the medicine, he first prepared to descend from the skylight to take Jing Hengbo away, but the usually deserted prison was particularly heavily guarded today. He was discovered before even reaching the roof. Then he changed direction, scouting around the prison area, and found an inconspicuous hole that from its position might lead to the prison. He simply went that route. Though he couldn’t determine direction underground, he could sense his guess was correct. Seeing the stone slab above, he was even more pleased—it was probably the prison floor. Who knew that at the last step, the stone slab was suddenly covered.

Yelu Qi warily positioned himself in the tunnel, ready for defense. Logically, if the tunnel was discovered, the person above should attack.

After waiting a while with no movement, the person above seemed to just want to close the door.

Yelu Qi found this strange. Then he heard a thud from above, as if someone had sat down.

After thinking, he took out some grass-like substance from his pocket, lit it with a fire starter. The grass slowly burned, emitting a peculiar smell. Yelu Qi aimed at the crack left after the stone slab above was pushed open, inserted half the grass into it, with the burning end stuck in the crack, ensuring the flame didn’t show above ground to avoid being extinguished.

Above, Jing Hengbo suddenly sniffed and said: “What’s that smell?”

There seemed to be a faint odor in the air—couldn’t tell if it was fragrant or foul, and didn’t feel like anything after smelling it.

“Mm?” That fellow sitting in meditation seemed to smell nothing.

Moments later, Jing Hengbo casually looked at the ground and cried “Ah!”—”Snake!”

On the ground was a long black line that at first glance looked like a snake, but on closer inspection was actually a large column of black ants, winding crookedly in from outside the cell door.

After the ants came centipedes, after centipedes came rats, after rats came snakes… Jing Hengbo stared dumbfounded as snakes, insects, rats, and ants peacefully coexisted, forming a line, marching toward… under that meditating fellow’s robes…

“Uh,” she pointed at that fellow in bewilderment. He seemed still meditating, eyes closed. “That…”

“Mm?” he said.

“This…” Jing Hengbo bit her finger, watching ants go in, centipedes go in…

“Mm?” He opened his eyes, suddenly pressing his palm downward.

The stone slab beneath him sank an inch, exposing the burning grass head.

He lightly pinched with his fingers, extracting the grass. Those ants and centipedes immediately changed direction, heading straight for the grass.

He stood up without hesitation, drew a circle on the stone slab with his finger, and a piece of stone silently fell into his palm, revealing a hole.

Then he quickly threw the burning grass head down the hole.

The ants and insects immediately changed direction again, following the hole downward.

In the tunnel, Yelu Qi sneered with folded arms.

In tunnel digging, you always go horizontal first then vertical. He guessed the fellow above would definitely pull out the grass and throw it back to him, so he had hidden in the horizontal tunnel early, digging a pit at the bottom of the vertical tunnel. Those ants, centipedes, snakes, and rats all fell into the pit with thuds, unable to harm him at all.

He crouched down, pulled out several poisonous snakes, removed their fangs, and held the fangs in his hand.

After all those chaotic creatures finished falling, he looked at the hole above, which alternated between light and dark.

When it darkened, his body shot up vertically, the poison fangs in his hand shooting out, piercing through the hole!

The person who removed the grass would definitely look down the hole after all the insects and rodents fell, and would block the hole before leaving.

When blocking the hole, his face would definitely be above the opening.

This was the moment.

Poison fangs shot out!

Even Jing Hengbo could hear the wind sound piercing through the tunnel below!

The fellow above suddenly pressed the stone he’d been holding against the hole opening!

Fast as lightning!

“Pop pop” several sounds—the poison fangs shattered against the stone.

Yelu Qi’s body was at the moment of falling but not yet fallen.

The person above suddenly grabbed a large handful of straw, somehow having a fire starter in his hand. With a flick, he lit the straw, quickly pulled open the stone slab, and threw that mass of burning straw downward!

Jing Hengbo stared dumbfounded at his series of fast, accurate, ruthless moves, vaguely seeming to see crystal light flash between his fingers, but it disappeared in an instant.

Whoosh—flames rose in the tunnel, falling straight toward Yelu Qi’s head.

“Whew.” Yelu Qi rapidly fell downward, still not forgetting to whip back with his sleeve as he fell, countless sparks splashing and shooting out of the hole.

Sparks fell on Yelu Qi’s head and also on that fellow’s clothes.

“Pop.” The fellow above sealed the stone slab again.

Then brushed off the sparks on his clothes—his garment was already burned full of holes.

Then spread the straw again and once more sat down calmly and composedly.

Jing Hengbo was so shocked she forgot how to speak.

In just a few blinks, she had witnessed a high-level battle of dragons and tigers.

They were indeed masters.

Even if you haven’t eaten pork, you’ve seen pigs run. She still had that much eyesight. In just that brief moment, the person above and the person below had already exchanged three moves. These three moves tested cunning, wisdom, eyesight, and reflexes—none could be lacking.

Both were extraordinary people.

The person below was blocked, so he used grass to attract poisonous insects to sting the person above, also meaning to force him to leave.

The person above dug a hole to drive the insects down, using the other’s method against him.

The person below also calculated this counterattack, preparing hidden weapons to strike when the person above appeared at the hole.

But the person above also anticipated this move, never throwing away the stone he’d carved out, using it to block the hidden weapons in a split second, then conveniently throwing fire down.

It seemed simple, but was actually a battle of wits. Both reacted with stunning speed, with almost no time to think.

The final result seemed both suffered some losses, with the person below getting the worse of it, though given the terrain disadvantage, he couldn’t be blamed.

However, Jing Hengbo felt there should be tactics she hadn’t seen.

Her eyes shone with excitement as she replayed this battle in her mind over and over, feeling enlightened.

This was the direction she should learn.

Yi Qi said her bones were already formed, making it too late to learn martial arts. Achieving profound martial skills was almost impossible. But she could find another path, developing different talents. And it was best to choose what she was good at. She had just understood—what she should practice most was reaction, speed, and calculation.

Calculating others’ behaviors and possible reactions. If she could always know what others would do next and be prepared waiting there, she would never lose!

The black-clothed man quietly raised his head.

Seeing her eyes sparkling with thought, faint laughter appeared in his eyes.

Intelligent and perceptive women could shine brilliantly anytime, anywhere.

After a long while, Jing Hengbo came back to herself and asked him: “That… who was the person below?”

Knowing he wouldn’t give an answer.

“Don’t know him.” Sure enough, he answered.

“Then why be so ruthless?” She pouted.

“Ruthless?” He said matter-of-factly: “I worked hard to dig that tunnel. He wanted to commandeer it? Did he ask my permission?”

Jing Hengbo was speechless at this fierce and domineering statement, also feeling there was something strange about it.

She could only mourn for that unlucky fellow, praying it wasn’t Yelu Qi—surely it couldn’t be such a coincidence?

In the tunnel below.

Yelu Qi laboriously brushed off his head, burned hair fluttering down like snow.

…

The tunnel below returned to quiet. With no more disturbances, Jing Hengbo didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. She let out a long breath.

The mysterious fellow opposite began meditating again, this time not demanding to sleep with her.

Jing Hengbo observed him. This person wasn’t tall, very thin—thinner than anyone she’d ever seen, with very flexible lines throughout his body. She carefully compared his build and temperament—in terms of appearance, this person was very unfamiliar.

Jing Hengbo couldn’t stand boredom. With such a person sitting motionlessly across from her, she felt strange, as if being watched, and couldn’t help but make conversation: “That… are you a master thief? The kind who robs the rich to help the poor?”

“Tomb raider,” he said.

Jing Hengbo made an “uh” sound and immediately felt respect—so there really was the profession of tomb raiding in this world. No wonder he was so good at digging tunnels.

This fellow said one sentence and stopped, seeming to have no desire for conversation. Jing Hengbo had to ask again: “A lone wolf?”

That fellow seemed to think for a moment before saying: “Sort of, but not really.”

“What do you mean?” Jing Hengbo immediately pursued the topic with interest.

“I came from humble origins, but now someone manages me,” he said dryly.

Jing Hengbo waited for him to continue, but this fellow stopped talking again. Jing Hengbo had to ask frantically: “And then?”

“Then what?” This fellow was truly slow to react.

Jing Hengbo felt his intelligence was probably all used in martial arts.

“Who manages you? Someone like you should refuse to be managed. A martial world boss?” She was very interested in the martial world, always feeling she’d have dealings with it in the future. Taking this opportunity to learn more would be good.

He pulled out a wooden plaque and threw it over.

This was a peach wood plaque, ancient in color. Because it was often carried, it emanated a warm luster. The style was simple—square outside, round inside. The back showed a hand holding a flower, the front had a seal character.

Seeing seal script gave her a headache. She tilted her head and mumbled: “Donkey? Furnace? Emperor wood?”

A voice suddenly floated through her mind, clear and crisp: “…palace meat? Lu moon?”

Her heart ached, nearly dropping the wooden plaque. She quickly spread her palm, self-mockingly laughing: “Writing characters so complicated—it recognizes me but I don’t recognize it.”

The fellow opposite looked deeply at her, his gaze also seeming distant. When her eyes looked over, he immediately turned away, saying: “Ignorant! Mu!”

“Wood?”

“Mu as in solemn.”

“Oh.” She lost interest in asking, returning the wooden plaque to him.

“Master Mu,” he volunteered. “The underground boss of martial world vagrants in the six nations and eight tribes. Whether high or low class, black or white path, even if not under his management, they still have to give him face. I was originally a lone tomb raider, but after he helped me once, I joined him.”

Jing Hengbo indicated that these three words “Master Mu” sounded very familiar—where had she heard them?

The fellow opposite went to sleep again, so she had to lie down too. She had thought someone would interrogate her soon, giving her a chance to leave, but after waiting a long time with no movement, the sky outside seemed to brighten again. She heard door opening sounds and footsteps that seemed to be coming this way.

The meditating fellow opened his eyes, lay down on the inner side of the straw bed. The cell was dark—as long as she didn’t call out, outsiders couldn’t see him.

Jing Hengbo hesitated for a moment—should she call out? But she immediately dismissed the thought.

From this fellow’s actions, calling out would be useless. The jailer might be killed in an instant, or she might be killed in an instant.

“Meal delivery!” The jailer shouted in a rough, loud voice, setting down a food basket.

Jing Hengbo waited for the person to leave, then reached out to drag the basket over. Looking at it, she said in surprise: “Wow, prison food is this good? Xiang Kingdom’s welfare system is really excellent.”

Though the food in the basket wasn’t exquisite, it had fish and meat, both vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes, steaming white rice, and hot soup.

Completely different from the prison food she understood that was full of sand and rat droppings.

She praised it for a while, then suddenly stared wide-eyed: “Oh no, I heard death row inmates get big fish and meat for their last meal. Isn’t this the rhythm for execution?”

After thinking, she said: “If it’s execution, then execution. Once dead, I won’t be able to eat for a long time. Better eat my fill first.” She began serving rice, picking through the dishes for what she liked.

The black-clothed man opposite opened his eyes, watching the woman energetically picking through food before him, his gaze warm.

Strong adaptability was also one of the foundations for the strong to survive in chaotic times.

After picking for a long while, Jing Hengbo filled her bowl with her favorite dishes, then suddenly felt eyes on her. Looking up, she saw the fellow opposite hadn’t had time to withdraw his gaze.

She belatedly exclaimed “Ah!” only then remembering this uninvited roommate. By rights, she should share some food with him?

“Hey,” she asked with a smile, chopsticks in her mouth: “Hungry?”

“Ah?” That fellow answered stupidly.

“If you want to eat, come get it yourself.” She pointed at the food. “I won’t be polite with people. If you’re going to be polite, I’ll impolitely eat it all.”

That fellow hesitated, then sat over.

There was only one pair of chopsticks. Jing Hengbo thought about it and handed them to him: “Break them in half, we’ll share. I don’t have the strength.”

He took them and gently broke the chopsticks, holding one half, naturally about to pull something from his chest to wipe them.

“Hey,” Jing Hengbo quickly said: “That half was used by me.”

His hand paused, and he handed that half over. Jing Hengbo took it, looking at him sideways: “What were you about to do?”

“I thought it was unused,” he answered flatly.

Jing Hengbo snorted, taking the chopsticks and about to continue eating when she suddenly paused.

She felt that previous action was somewhat familiar.