With a “whoosh,” snow-white robe corners swept past her face like clouds as Gong Yin’s slender body flipped in mid-air and landed steadily on the ground.

Jing Hengbo climbed up, deeply regretting that her only known over-the-shoulder throw hadn’t killed Gong Yin.

Before she could stand straight, a white figure flashed before her eyes. With a crisp “slap,” she fell backward again.

Even while falling she didn’t forget to kick hard, her high heel flying viciously toward his shin.

The high heel never reached its target, flying away to crash into something with a “bang,” followed by a sharp “ah!” scream as several colorful bird feathers flew from the slope.

Er Gouzi spun around dizzy with the high heel on his head, cursing loudly: “Whose chamber pot is being thrown around!”

Jing Hengbo stumbled to her feet. Gong Yin’s casually flicked sleeve was enough to send her to Siberia.

Under normal circumstances with such disparity in strength, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to oppose him—if she were going to oppose him, she would have done so long ago.

But just now, Jing Jun’s backward glance and that silent plea still crashed in her heart, stimulating her to madness.

Jing Jun had said: Please, let me go.

Jing Hengbo held her forehead, her mind in chaos. However scattered she usually was, she now understood what was happening.

Was it really right to put someone in mortal danger so blatantly?

Could Jing Jun not be traumatized?

Jing Jun treasured her life—she knew this and understood it. She didn’t think others should necessarily repay a casual life-saving favor with their lives. Perhaps Cui Jie could do it, but the delicate, narcissistic Jing Jun could not.

Such tearful, unwilling eyes struck the heart more than crying and screaming. She didn’t know how long she could watch this calmly.

A corner of snow-white robe hung quietly before her, without even a wrinkle. Compared to her mud-covered dishevelment, the person before her was noble as if he’d just descended from clouds.

Jing Hengbo kept her head down, now staggering as she climbed up, holding her forehead and spinning dizzily. He watched without helping.

She seemed truly dizzy, spinning and about to crash into him.

Gong Yin reached out to push her away.

Jing Hengbo immediately took advantage to grab his hand, pressing her body down hard!

Gong Yin pushed outward while Jing Hengbo thrust her chest against his hand: “Come on!”

Gong Yin immediately stopped moving.

The next instant Jing Hengbo wrapped her arms around his waist, crashing her head into his stomach.

With a thud both fell backward. Gong Yin grunted angrily, trying to throw her off, but Jing Hengbo had already scrambled up like an octopus, tightly wrapping around him and locking his legs.

Gong Yin stopped moving again.

This position was too awkward. No matter how unwilling he was to get close to her, he was still a normal man. If this fight continued, it would ignite the fire in his blood, making things even more embarrassing.

At this moment her legs pressed tightly against his, the thin long skirt unable to block her burning skin. He could even feel the delicacy of her leg skin—like fragrant silk warmer than fine satin, or like a pair of smooth snakes swaying to penetrate flesh and bone.

At this moment a strange thought actually flitted through his mind: She seems to not wear pants under her skirt…

He quickly killed this damned thought. Looking up, he met her burning gaze.

For an instant he saw himself in the depths of her large, dark eyes, swaying in her rippling glance—or perhaps what swayed wasn’t the reflection in her eyes, but a suddenly disturbed mood.

“Get off!” he quickly spoke, grateful his voice remained clear as usual.

Jing Hengbo laughed wickedly, raising her hand holding a high heel, its ten-inch spike sole aimed at his carotid artery.

Gong Yin’s expression didn’t even change. He only said to the stunned Cui Jie: “You withdraw. Don’t let the guards come over.”

Jing Hengbo immediately said: “Don’t leave, or you’ll be tricked into being a target again!”

“Do you believe I can make her a target right now?”

Cui Jie fled like smoke, ignoring Jing Hengbo’s well-meaning calls.

Jing Hengbo wasn’t discouraged. The silver heel of her high heel gleamed brightly—she believed it could easily pierce that proud fellow’s particularly thin skin.

“Let us go!” she began negotiating.

“Corpses can go.”

Jing Hengbo’s high heel trembled as she considered whether to poke a hole first to let some blood and kill this fellow’s arrogance.

Pinned underneath yet still acting so arrogant?

“Then let Cui Jie and Jing Jun go.” She compromised. “I don’t care about being a human shield. They came out to help me and have already been implicated by me. If they’re used as shields too, how can I live with myself? If you push Jing Jun too far and she causes trouble, what then?”

“That’s your problem.” Gong Yin remained calm as usual, his eyes half-open as if about to sleep.

“If I don’t do well, don’t expect to do well either.” Jing Hengbo waved her high heel. “Next time you pull this trick, I’ll directly reveal my identity.”

“Please do.” Gong Yin’s lips curved slightly in a half-smile. “If you think your life is as cheap as an ant’s, feel free to trade it for those two women.”

Without waiting for Jing Hengbo’s answer, he continued: “Actually I also think your life isn’t worth much. But before reaching Dahuang, before you officially ascend the throne, I won’t allow you to die.”

Jing Hengbo caught the flaw, narrowing her eyes warily: “What about after ascending the throne?”

Gong Yin fell silent, then after a long while said: “Being able to have me manage this entire journey for you should be enough for you to die without regrets.”

“Screw your ‘die without regrets’—sister will make you die without regrets right now!” Jing Hengbo’s eyes flashed viciously as she raised her high heel high, aiming straight for that forever proudly raised neck.

Let him be the first to fall under a high heel weapon!

The next instant her high heel struck the tree with a thud. She whooshed over Gong Yin’s head and hung from the tree branch.

The tree trunk shook, the high heel fell on her head, hanging crookedly like a queen’s crown.

Gong Yin had already risen from the grass. As he stood, grass and dirt fell away, yet he maintained that pristine appearance as if he’d just bathed in a celestial pool.

Around him floated a fragrance belonging to Jing Hengbo’s unique rich aroma. Extremely faint, but undeniably present. Gong Yin unconsciously paused in that scent, then suddenly realized he seemed overly sensitive to everything about her.

“Next time don’t rub your rough skin against me.” He immediately removed his outer robe, calling to Meng Hu: “Take this and burn it.”

Meng Hu appeared without surprise, helping him change into a new robe and taking the outer robe to burn.

Jing Hengbo blinked, looking at the smoke rising from the burning robe. In her heart she warmly greeted his ancestors eighteen generations back and prepared to use another hidden skill to leave him a deep memory.

Should she use that tree branch three zhang away, or the stone at the tree’s base?

The former lacked killing power, the latter was too heavy—she wasn’t sure she could manage it.

Before finishing her deliberation, Gong Yin had already dusted his clothes and left.

As he walked away he said: “From now on, if you show any more disrespectful or harmful behavior toward me…”

Meng Hu appeared timely with a large basin of lard, bringing it to Jing Hengbo’s nose. The greasy meat smell nearly made her vomit.

Gong Yin had already walked away leisurely.

“I’ll have you eat lard-mixed rice five times a day, rub your body with lard, drink lard soup—everything about you will be solved with lard until you’re snow-white and tender with a figure like that.”

He pointed, and a group of fat pigs happened to walk across the slope.

…

Half a quarter-hour later.

Jing Hengbo, stunned by the terrible news and finally coming to her senses, let out a piercing, deafening shriek.

“Gong Yin, someday I’ll make you gay!”