“What was that sound?” Jing Hengbo, who had already run quite far, vaguely felt as if she had heard a “crack” in the darkness. She unconsciously shivered all over and couldn’t help but look back.
Behind her, the area was completely empty—not a soul in sight.
She rubbed the goosebumps that had risen on her skin and said with a beaming smile, “There seems to be a town ahead. Shall we go there to hire a carriage and return to the interior?”
Naturally, no one had any objections. Fortunately, the road was indeed not far. When they arrived, they discovered it was a military town, with a stone archway at the entrance bearing the two characters “Xi Kang.”
Xi Kang was a military city, so entering wasn’t easy. Fortunately, this group consisted entirely of women. Jing Hengbo lied, claiming they had been robbed on the road and were seeking refuge with relatives in the city. She even lifted up her straw sandal-wearing feet for them to see—on her snow-white, tender feet were tiny scrapes the size of eye boogers. Combined with her coquettish tone and soul-stirring glances, she managed to make the gate guards dizzy with just a few sentences, and they let the group pass.
The city was quite lively, half Xi Kang soldiers and half civilians. It was said to be the garrison of veteran general Zhong Yuanyi, who guarded the northwestern border for Da Yan. The military city housed two hundred thousand soldiers inside and outside, plus one hundred thousand civilians. This was the last prosperous human settlement before leaving Da Yan’s borders. Years of border trade and population growth had made it bustling with activity, not much inferior to the interior.
Having walked in the mountains for so long, Jing Hengbo felt every cell in her body wanted to dance upon seeing people. She excitedly dragged everyone to eat at food stalls. Xi Kang City had an entire street of night markets selling various foods like cured mutton, sheep hooves, rabbit heads, bean sheet noodles, fried pastries, noodles, and dumplings. Jing Hengbo walked back and forth on the street twice. Though she was starving and craving the atmosphere of human life, she found these stalls rather dirty and hesitated to enter.
In modern times, she had been quite a germaphobe, though that was largely forced on her by several inconsiderate roommates. Jing Hengbo was actually quite adaptable with low principles—when necessary, she could completely abandon unnecessary insistence. So after arriving in this other world, when the environment didn’t allow for germaphobia, and when someone around her was even more of a germaphobe, she became less so. Now, having left Gong Yin’s side, she suddenly felt free and unrestrained, but at the same time, her heart seemed somewhat empty. Her old habits naturally resurfaced, and she began finding this dirty and that dirty, nothing pleasing to the eye.
After walking the short street for the third time, everyone felt tired and hungry. Feifei was already dragging her skirt hem, pointing at a meat bun stall ahead and refusing to move her legs. Her two-dimensional large round beautiful pupils blinked rapidly, desperately trying to charm, waiting for Jing Hengbo’s conscience to kick in.
Cui Jie suddenly said, “That place ahead looks rather clean.”
Only then did Jing Hengbo notice a stall at the street corner made with white cloth. The space wasn’t large, but the white cloth was snow-white, and the tables and chairs underneath looked quite new, unlike other establishments covered in thick grease. Several men and women were busy inside, with customers present, all looking neat and clean. On this smoky, noisy street full of the atmosphere of human life, it stood out like a uniquely refreshing landscape.
“Eh, I walked past twice—how did I not see it before?” Jing Hengbo wondered while naturally walking in.
As she entered, the customers inside had just finished eating and walked out, leaving seats that were just right for them. Jing Hengbo glanced at the departing customers’ backs and felt something different in a daze, though she couldn’t quite place what.
A woman approached with a kind smile and gentle face, asking with a laugh, “What would the customers like to eat? Our small shop has local specialties like cold mixed leak fish, hot and sour sweet potato noodles, bean sheet with cucumber, hand-pulled noodles, mutton stewed noodles, with chili and vinegar added—perfect for summer, most refreshing and appetizing…”
“Other places usually specialize in just one or two dishes, but yours is quite comprehensive.” Jing Hengbo replied casually with a smile, not noticing the woman’s suddenly stiff expression. She looked around at the food options and said, “Hey, this place looks small but has many varieties. Choose what you like—I’m treating!”
Everyone ordered their favorites. Jing Hengbo ordered hot and sour sweet potato noodles for Feifei, curious to see if the pseudo-loli little monster could handle spicy food, and also bought it two snow-white scallion meat buns.
Er Gouzi, who had been dejected and silent, quietly tiptoed around the table, jumped onto the basin rack, circled to above Feifei’s buns, turned around, and stuck out its rear…
“Smack.” Feifei’s fluffy big white tail swished and harshly struck Er Gouzi’s bottom. Er Gouzi fell spread-eagle, lying on the ground crying pitifully: “Opening the window to face the garden, drinking wine and talking of mulberry and hemp, little thief specializes in sneak attacks, may your sons be born without chrysanthemums!”
Except for Jing Jun, who looked at it sympathetically, picked it up and placed it aside on the basin rack, everyone including Jing Hengbo just huffed and puffed while eating, too lazy to pay it any attention.
Self-inflicted suffering cannot be helped.
The woman glanced at Feifei once, a strange glint flashing in her eyes, and said with a smile, “This cat is quite adorable.”
Jing Hengbo didn’t clarify. All along the way, everyone had taken Feifei for a cat, including Cui Jie and the others, so they didn’t ask many questions. Jing Hengbo didn’t deliberately explain either—not because she wanted to guard against anyone, but simply because she found explanations troublesome.
Behind the tent was a stove. The woman reported everyone’s orders to someone back there. An old man with a snow-white cloth draped over his shoulder slowly responded, hunching his back as he went to cook. Jing Hengbo hadn’t paid attention to this person initially, but seeing his advanced age and fearing he might have coughing or wheezing ailments, she took another look.
With this glance, she didn’t notice anything wrong with the old man, but she did observe that beside him, the woman appeared particularly upright and straight. When she walked slowly, her skirt hem didn’t flutter and no dust stirred—exceptionally graceful and elegant.
Jing Hengbo simply found it beautiful. She was interested in all beautiful things and couldn’t help staring at the woman’s back. Suddenly noticing that Jing Jun was also watching the woman’s back, she smiled and said, “This proprietress really has a beautiful gait, nothing like the other women on this street, right?”
Jing Jun seemed to pause, then said “Ah” and replied, “Ah? Right? Mm, yes.”
Jing Hengbo heard her absent-mindedness and was about to ask with a laugh when the woman had already brought everyone’s food in order. Jing Jun looked down at her bowl and suddenly said, “Er Gou is dirty. I’ll go ask the boss for some water to wash it.”
“Eat first, then go…” Jing Hengbo waved her chopsticks trying to detain her, but Jing Jun had already grabbed Er Gouzi and went behind the tent. The cooking steam behind the tent obscured her figure. Jing Hengbo thought she heard a short “Ah!” from her, but when she craned her neck to look, there was no commotion. The white cloth showed the shadows of two figures—her and the old man—with the sound of running water, probably the other party helping her wash the bird.
Everyone began eating. Jing Hengbo’s mutton noodles weren’t ready yet. With fragrant aromas swirling around and everyone burying their heads in their food, it was torture for her. She sat restlessly, too embarrassed to keep staring at others’ bowls, so she looked around. Suddenly she saw a person in blue sitting at the third stall ahead, whose posture from afar looked particularly straight. Her eyes focused and she exclaimed, “Damn, who’s that sitting over there? So upright, like a zombie!”
The blue-clothed person’s back seemed to stiffen even more…
Jing Hengbo’s eternally restless gaze had already moved on, soon attracted by the next target. Pointing at someone wearing a large hat walking down the street, she said, “Damn, that guy walks so disgustingly annoying! Look, look—he seems to be walking among the crowd, but no one can get close to him. Is this the ‘Eighteen Falls from Touching Clothes’ often mentioned in martial arts novels? Damn, so pretentious! Thinks he’s Gong Yin, that rich handsome guy! I hope you step in shit, choke on stones while drinking soup, hahaha…”
The hat-wearing man walking in the distance seemed to stumble slightly in his steps…
Jing Hengbo suddenly pointed at a back figure in the far distance: “Look quick, another person wearing a hat. This place has so many hat-wearers. Don’t they know this look is really stupid? Hahaha…”
Not far away in a dark corner, a hat-wearing man’s snow-white fingers resting on his hat brim trembled once, then again…
Miss Jing was about to continue pointing out the world’s despicable people when finally her hot and sour noodles arrived. Having waited so long and been tantalized by the aroma until she was drooling, Jing Hengbo felt she could eat three large bowls. She quickly brought her nose to the hot and sour mutton noodles, taking a deep, intoxicated breath: “Wow, so fragrant…”
“Plop.”
A gray object fell into the soup bowl, splashing the scalding broth onto Jing Hengbo’s nose tip.
“Who’s throwing stones from above? Who!” Jing Hengbo clearly saw that what fell was a dirty little stone. Furious, she jumped up and looked overhead.
Looking up, she couldn’t help but be stunned.
There was no building above. This was a roadside stall—above was just a clean, flat piece of white cloth without even any dust.
How could a stone fall from the white cloth?
“Proprietress, what’s going on?” Jing Hengbo asked the woman who hurried over, covering her reddened nose.
The woman paused slightly, then regained her composure, smiling as she picked up the bowl: “The wind is strong here. Perhaps the wind blew the stone. Since that’s the case, I’ll get you a new bowl.”
Though this woman had ordinary looks and wasn’t young, her voice was gentle and her manner dignified, with an extremely composed temperament. Hearing her speak so softly and gently, Jing Hengbo was too embarrassed to make things difficult for her. She nodded, watching the woman take the bowl inside. Soon she brought out another bowl.
“I’ve added extra ingredients and re-stewed it for you.” She smiled gracefully.
Jing Hengbo thanked her and lifted the bowl again.
“Smack!”
Something suddenly flew from the side, circling around Jing Hengbo’s waist and smacking into her bowl.
This thing was more destructive than the previous stone. The bowl cracked in half with a snap, red oil spilling onto Jing Hengbo’s skirt.
White fur flashed as Feifei leaped away, narrowly avoiding the oil splash, still holding a meat bun in its mouth.
Jing Hengbo jumped up, frantically shaking the oil from her skirt. Her hands trembling, her heart quaking, she discovered that what had hit the bowl this time was damn dog shit.
Could wind blow dog shit to land precisely in a bowl?
Jing Hengbo rushed out of the tent, looking around. People came and went on the street—everyone looked suspicious, yet everyone was beyond suspicion.
A white flash—Feifei whooshed back, the meat bun in its mouth already gone. Its purple beautiful pupils rolled more slowly, like in an anime.
Jing Hengbo asked it, “Did you discover any suspicious targets?”
Feifei slowly blinked its round eyes at her. Jing Hengbo watched dumbfounded as it pulled another meat bun from its tail and held it in its mouth, then pointed toward the bun stall.
Jing Hengbo had to squeeze to the bun stall again to buy another bun, bribing that greedy, cunning, two-faced little monster. The bun disappeared into the little monster’s paws without a trace. Without guessing, Jing Hengbo knew it was hidden in its tail. Magically, you couldn’t tell from the outside, and the bun didn’t fall out either.
Jing Hengbo viciously cursed in her heart for the hot bun to burn the creature’s anus, while smiling sweetly and asking Feifei, “Any discoveries, dear?”
Feifei, holding the bun and nibbling, let out a small burp, patted its belly, then facing Jing Hengbo’s expectant gaze, adorably shook its head with its mouth curled up in a slanted smile that looked surprisingly charming.
“SHIT!” Jing Hengbo waved her hand and returned to the tent. The others had already finished eating and were all looking at this unlucky person. Jing Hengbo scratched her hair and said worriedly, “It seems this place doesn’t match my aura. I’ll eat somewhere else. Proprietress, the bill.”
“That will be sixty coins.” The woman smiled.
Jing Hengbo reached for her money pouch. When they left, Gong Yin had allowed them to pack personal belongings. Cui Jie had helped Jing Hengbo pack her money pouch, which had been with Cui Jie all along until she returned it to Jing Hengbo earlier.
Her hand reached in like sinking into a quagmire, unable to pull out.
Jing Hengbo’s facial expression was quite spectacular.
“I’ll be damned…” she said in a low voice. “Is this what they call misfortunes never come singly?”
“What’s wrong?” Cui Jie noticed something amiss and asked.
“The money pouch is gone.” Jing Hengbo’s gaze went blank, her breath weak as gossamer.
It was still there when she bought the buns earlier. Maybe it was pickpocketed when she squeezed into the bun-buying crowd.
“I have some here.” Cui Jie went to check her own money pouch, and Jing Jun also reached for money, but both soon stopped and looked at each other.
“This…” Jing Hengbo saw their expressions and an ominous premonition rose in her heart. She said quietly, “Your money isn’t gone too, is it?”
Both nodded dumbly.
Jing Hengbo smacked her forehead in frustration. Damn this situation!
She had left the tent herself, so losing money was understandable, but Cui Jie and Jing Jun had barely moved. When did their money disappear? When entering the city? Or earlier?
Regardless, without money, they couldn’t move a step. First, they needed to solve the immediate crisis. Yong Xue had no money on her. Though Jing Hengbo had good things in her suitcase, she couldn’t casually take them out to sell. Besides, she was reluctant—this was her real golden finger for surviving in this world. How could she casually sell it in this border town? Whether anyone would recognize its value was also questionable.
Jing Hengbo glanced at the proprietress, who was busy with her back turned, seemingly not noticing the group’s abnormality.
“I’ll go find a way to get some money.” She whispered to Jing Jun, called to Feifei, and twisted out of the tent.
Fortunately, neither the proprietress nor the proprietor saw her leave.
Jing Hengbo exhaled in relief, standing on the main street thinking about how to get money. Suddenly she saw a building not far ahead that looked ordinary but had a blood-red flag displaying a large character for “gamble,” and her eyes lit up.
Gambling brings money fastest! Mahjong, pai gow, dice, finger-guessing—sister excels at all of them!
The mahjong expert thought with a smile.
However, this city’s gambling den seemed particularly high-profile. Generally, gambling establishments rarely displayed their signs so openly.
Jing Hengbo walked toward the gambling den but was stopped far from the entrance. Local rules forbade women and children from entering gambling establishments, especially women.
They said the local custom was that gambling with women would ruin one’s luck for life.
Jing Hengbo was turned away but wouldn’t give up. She wandered around the small alleys near the gambling den.
From a distance, she saw a young man stumbling out of the gambling den and walking into this alley. She quickly approached and blocked his path.
The youth, finding his way blocked, impatiently looked up ready to curse, but seeing a charming beauty before his eyes, his eyes brightened.
“Big brother, I want to discuss something with you…” Jing Hengbo smiled sweetly, resting her arm on the youth’s shoulder and breathing like orchids toward his neck. “I want to borrow your…”
Feifei quietly emerged from the other side, ready to employ some tactics.
The youth’s soul had nearly flown away, his eyes full of Jing Hengbo’s peach blossom eyes and scarlet lips. He reached back to embrace her waist, grinning lecherously: “Where did this sultry little lady come from? Are you here to accompany this young master? Usually I don’t like this, but you… hmm, how much for one night?”
“Smack.”
This was the third time Jing Hengbo heard this sound today.
So much so that she reflexively stepped back, barely dodging a mysterious strange wind.
Then she saw the strange wind hit the youth, smacking him down with a “bang,” then rolling him away. Along the way he bumped into many wall corners, stones, cow dung piles, mud pits, and such.
“What the hell is going on,” Jing Hengbo said, holding her finger in her mouth, speaking to Feifei who had suddenly curled up its tail. “Did I read pornography before going out today? Am I haunted?”
Feifei shook its tail and pulled out half a bun to eat.
Jing Hengbo suddenly saw another target in the alley.
A tall, dark-skinned young man with his head hanging low, seemingly drunk, swaying as he entered.
Jing Hengbo persistently approached him.
She didn’t want to rob or sell her charms—she really just wanted to borrow a set of men’s clothing from him.
“Big brother…” She smiled sweetly as she approached. Before she could speak, the young man swayed twice and his body tilted downward.
“Bang.”
Dust filled the air. In the dusty haze, Jing Hengbo, pressed underneath, cried.
“Wuu wuu wuu, why am I so unlucky today…”
The person on top of her didn’t smell strongly of alcohol but was very heavy. Unfortunately, he was pressing on her, with his long arms and elbow tips against her throat. With a little force, Jing Hengbo could meet her maker.
“Hey! Hey hey! Get up! Quickly get up!” Jing Hengbo wanted to slap this guy’s face but couldn’t reach, so she could only pat his back. Who knew that when her hand moved, the drunkard’s left hand hanging to one side suddenly swung forward in a circle, perfectly slapping her face, and the dust on his arm immediately covered her face.
“Ptooey ptooey ptooey.” Jing Hengbo spat out a mouthful of dust, vaguely feeling this scene seemed somewhat familiar. She turned her head trying to remember but couldn’t figure it out. She went to push the guy again, but who knew he suddenly rolled over on her body, his elbow heavily pressing into her waist. She was nearly unable to catch her breath and sucked back in all the dust she had just spat out.
Before Jing Hengbo could cry out, the guy seemed about to stand up shakily. Jing Hengbo was overjoyed and about to get up when “bang”—the guy fell down again, his back pressing on her chest, the back of his head hitting her nose squarely. Jing Hengbo felt her vision “whoosh” as fireworks brilliantly exploded.
So many stars flying about, countless little stars across the sky…
When she was once again pressed to the ground covered in dust, she really wanted to cry.
Who did she offend today!
For a moment she suspected Gong Yin of mischief, but if this guy wanted to capture her, why play such tricks? This wasn’t his style!
She suspiciously squinted, looking this young man up and down, but from her angle she couldn’t see his face. Her gaze fell on the dust covering his body, and she shook her head in self-denial.
That great god was like mountain peaks and highland snow, so clean and noble he seemed to want to roll in the clouds. How could he be willing to tumble in the dust?
Fortunately, after this drunkard repeatedly struck her, he finally passed out motionless. Jing Hengbo didn’t dare move beneath him for quite a while before finally catching her breath evenly. Smelling his faint alcohol scent and a strange, clear, subtle fragrance, she carefully climbed up. This time she didn’t dare to be presumptuous—she quickly stripped off his outer garment, hastily put it on, not daring to linger, and dragged Feifei away like she’d seen a ghost.
After she left, the alley was quiet.
After a while, a fallen leaf drifted down from the wall, spinning as it floated near the motionless drunkard, but in the last moment before approaching the person’s space above, it suddenly disappeared.
The drunkard slowly sat up.
He propped up his leg, elbow resting on his knee, long eyelashes drooping. His posture was casual and graceful, yet his figure in the twilight glow was dignified and composed.
…
Of course, Jing Hengbo didn’t know about the changes in the alley.
If she had looked back, she might have confirmed the truth about why today was so unlucky.
But now she was single-mindedly heading for the gambling den, planning to display her feminine prowess there and win back travel and meal expenses for the group of four people, one bird, and one beast.
Whether someone was causing trouble didn’t concern her. As long as she was still free at this moment, she would be free to her heart’s content and would never worry about things that hadn’t happened yet.
There was actually money in the drunkard’s inner pocket. Jing Hengbo was overjoyed—having money meant having gambling capital, solving a major problem for her.
The amount wasn’t small either—a fifty-tael universal bank note. Jing Hengbo didn’t think about how an ordinary person could carry such a large sum, and cheerfully went to gamble.
Of course, she could use these fifty taels to pay for food, hire a carriage, and live—this money was enough for a middle-class family to live for two years. But using this money would make it theft. She preferred to earn money herself, then return both the money and clothes to their owner.
“La la la, Fa Hai, you don’t understand love, knowing the truth makes my tears fall…” Jing Hengbo hummed a little tune as she entered the gambling den’s main door. This time, naturally, she encountered no obstacles.
“The gambling god has arrived!” Jing Hengbo enthusiastically squeezed into a table.
“What game does the customer play?” the dealer asked her.
“Rolling dice to bet big or small!” Jing Hengbo answered without hesitation. Betting big or small was fastest.
The dealer made the dice cup dance dazzlingly, appearing left then right, forming continuous illusory light and shadow. A crowd of gamblers’ eyes rolled following it, dark pupils flashing with golden and silver greed. At this moment, even if Jing Hengbo’s male disguise was crude, no one paid attention.
Only at the diagonal corner of the table sat a man with ordinary features, hand supporting his head, eyes lowered, his body language expressing disinterest and impatience. He even leaned slightly away, avoiding a sweaty gambler beside him and a courtesan trying to curry favor behind him.
Of course, at this tense moment, no one noticed.
The dealer’s dice cup had reached its climax. After a dazzling flourish, “bang”—the dice cup slammed down heavily.
“Bet small!” Jing Hengbo, who had been listening intently, instantly pushed forward all her wealth.
“Ha, it’s been small three times in a row. I don’t believe this jinx!” a gambler scoffed.
Jing Hengbo smiled sweetly and gave him the middle finger.
The gamblers placed their various bets. The dealer’s cheek muscles tightened, and he thundered: “Open—”
His voice was like exploding thunder, stunning everyone. Taking advantage of this moment of distraction, the dealer’s little finger quietly slipped into the dice…
The man supporting his head at the opposite side of the table suddenly flicked his fingertip lightly.
The dealer’s finger stiffened. Just then, the dice cup opened.
It was too late to tamper with anything.
“Small!” Jing Hengbo shrieked and jumped up, overjoyed and bubbling with excitement. She grabbed a random person beside her, ready to give them a celebratory face-to-face kiss to express her joy: “Oh yeah—”
When her lips were just 0.01 centimeters from that lucky fellow.
The silly guy in front of her suddenly disappeared.
With a soft “cha” sound, someone new had replaced him in front of Jing Hengbo—blue robe and long shirt, wooden expression, standing quietly before her, having replaced the random person.
Jing Hengbo hadn’t really looked at who was beside her—she was just venting her inner joy. She only felt a flash before her eyes, seeming like something had changed, but didn’t have time to see clearly.
“Smack.” A clear, crisp sound.
Lips and cheek made contact for 0.01 seconds, touching a quarter-inch area of skin, reaching thirty thousand feet into the depths of her heart’s lake, penetrating eight thousand cloud-paths to the soul’s end.
For an instant, both of them froze.
Heaven and earth seemed to pause at this moment. The noisy gambling den, disappointed dealer, excited gamblers, smiling courtesans, and all the various tumultuous noise enough to blow off the roof—all froze in an instant, leaving only this moment of gentle breeze and glazed moon beneath lips, spring rain and apricot blossoms on cheeks.
They separated at the touch.
Jing Hengbo turned her face away as if nothing had happened—just a celebratory face-touch with a stranger.
She laughed heartily, rolled up her sleeves, slapped the bank note on the table: “Again!”
“Again!”
The frozen gambling den came alive again.
The dice cup shook, the dealer puffed his cheeks, red white black eyes rolled about, smiles and disappointment coexisted, excitement and lurking went hand in hand, rolled-up sleeves revealing snow-white arms, turning wrists and gorgeous red lips.
All living beings, all appearances.
Jing Hengbo nonchalantly listened to the dice cup’s sounds, but her eyes couldn’t help glancing to her side intentionally or unintentionally.
The blue-robed man who had been face-touched was already gone.
Jing Hengbo’s gaze couldn’t help sweeping back, finally seeing his back at the far end of the crowd.
His steps weren’t fast, but somehow in the blink of an eye he was three zhang away at the main door. Through the chaotic crowd, she seemed to see him raise his sleeve close to his cheek, as if to wipe.
Her spine tensed, and she actually forgot to listen to the dice cup’s sound.
“Bet big or small!” The dealer’s voice startled her. She hastily looked back at the gambling table. Not having heard the dice clearly, she randomly bet big, then looked back for that person—where was any figure?
She snorted indignantly, not understanding what was wrong with her. It was just expressing excitement when happy—she used to do this often at the research institute. Why was she so unsettled today, so inexplicably confused?
Thinking about earlier, she hadn’t originally planned to kiss, but somehow was possessed to lean forward. That instant, the skin beneath her lips felt a bit strange, then she felt heat pressing up, burning like fire, like looking across a clear, cold lake and seeing deep red flames on the other side.
Afterward she felt warmth and softness, a tremor passing from cheek to lip, even her heart seemed to flutter.
Knowing this was absurd emotion, her heart seemed to have its own reminders.
Jing Hengbo snorted again, not understanding how a face-touch could make her so restless. In the past at the research institute, when she got excited watching games, she often grabbed Jun Ke and Wen Zhen for face-touches without feeling so stirred up.
Neurotic.
She muttered and forced herself to collect her emotions, shouting as she threw herself back into battle.
“Small!” The dealer opened.
“Aiya, how did I lose!” Jing Hengbo complained disappointedly, her eyes glancing sideways again.
Sigh, that bastard earlier—did he wipe his face or not?
…
The tall man in blue walked out the door.
Plans never keep up with changes, especially when facing a certain nonsensical woman—things often became unmanageable.
He had originally planned to stay in the gambling den personally, watching that woman win a pocketful, then leave.
And just now when that woman was so crazy, he should have stayed nearby to prevent her from throwing herself at just anyone.
However, that instant of apricot blossom spring rain on his cheek, her fragrance penetrating to the bone, seemed to awaken many long-dormant emotions in him. In that moment, not knowing if he felt surging or at a loss, he only wanted to leave quickly.
So many old emotions, in that moment of zero distance, were suddenly turned over with a crash, rising in broad daylight like gray-yellow smoke, obscuring this universe that had always been in his grasp. He was actually confused, unable to distinguish direction.
That spot on his cheek seemed a bit wet, yet a bit dry? Tightly taut, as if there were still a pair of delicate lips there, lovingly and coquettishly sipping.
He found it absurd.
Clearly wearing a mask, how could he still have such delicate sensations?
He raised his hand to wipe away that strange feeling, like smoothing suddenly wrinkled emotions.
His hand reached his cheek and stopped. After a pause, he slowly lowered it.
He exited and looked at the setting sun dragging behind the distant blue-green mountain range, letting out a soft sigh.
Perhaps he had been out too long.
It was time to let everything return to its proper track.
The Female Empress, State Preceptor, Six Kingdoms, Eight Tribes, chaotic world, undercurrents of Dahuang.
…
Just as someone couldn’t stand the teasing and fled, Jing Hengbo, having lost her powerful protector, finally lost.
The fifty taels of principal were gone, and the fifty taels won later were also gone.
Jing Hengbo, instantly becoming a member of the destitute class, like all gamblers who had lost everything, clutched the edge of the gambling table unwilling to let go.
“No money left? No money, get lost!” the dealer shouted, driving people away.
Jing Hengbo looked around. Those who had lost everything wouldn’t lend to her, and those who had won were mostly fat and greasy with lecherous smiles. Borrowing money from such people was really beneath her dignity—it would be different with a handsome guy.
Her flirtatious gaze flew around, trying to find someone who looked pleasant, wealthy, and wouldn’t cause trouble to be her sucker. Unintentionally glancing upstairs, she saw a pale, thin young man leaning on the railing, watching her with great interest.
Jing Hengbo’s eyes quickly swept over his expensive clothing, his composed expression, and the respectfully standing attendants behind him, concluding that “this is a rich fool.”
More importantly, she recognized that the attendants behind him were wearing the protective uniforms of this gambling house.
This young man should be the gambling house owner, or at least have connections.
“Hey, are you going to gamble or not? If not, give up your spot!” the dealer impatiently drove people away.
Jing Hengbo pushed away his hand, lifted her robe, raised her leg, and jumped onto the table.
“Wow.” Below, the dealer and gamblers all looked up with their heads tilted back, stunned.
The young man upstairs craned his neck even longer, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Hey! You up there! Look at my beauty!” Jing Hengbo stretched her neck shouting upward, “I’m so beautiful, how can you have the heart to win my money, how can you have the heart to cheat?”
“Such thick skin… Hey, who are you calling a cheat? Get down!” the dealer raged.
A bunch of people went to pull Jing Hengbo down. She gathered her robes and dodged left and right, cursing loudly: “You are cheating! If I… if I were cheating, you’d all have lost your pants and gone home naked. Cheating in front of me, an upright gentleman—don’t you have any shame!”
“Where did this lunatic come from, eating leopard guts and bear hearts, daring to speak nonsense in the South City gambling house?” The dealer was so angry he laughed, waving at the approaching burly guards, “Come—”
“Let him come up.” A languid voice came from above.
The dealer’s expression immediately straightened, and he bowed respectfully: “Yes!”
Jing Hengbo smiled triumphantly, gathered her robes, and gracefully descended from the table, walking upstairs with feminine charm.
The young man swayed as he approached. Jing Hengbo took one look at his face and shouted in her heart: “Little bottom!”
This one truly had a bottom’s face—pale complexion, slender waist, thin eyebrows and curved eyes, swaying in the wind, speaking in soft, delicate tones.
“I am Zhong Qing. May I ask your distinguished name, young master?” Bottom Zhong was rarely so polite, his slender eyes staring at the bright-eyed Jing Hengbo, burning brightly.
Jing Hengbo felt uncomfortable under his stare, somewhat glad that her loose robes hid her curves, yet somewhat regretful that the robes were too loose to show off her curves.
Facing such an effeminate fellow, she didn’t know which sexual orientation would be more appropriate.
“Too kind, too kind. I am Jing Da|bo.” She smiled fakely, coughed once, and was considering how to ask for money or openly gamble to win back her capital when Bottom Zhong had already approached with a fawning smile and grasped her hand.
“Brother Da|bo, meeting you today is truly a gift from heaven. The brothers below don’t understand propriety and have offended you. Please be magnanimous and don’t hold it against them. Come, come, please accompany me to my private room for a chat, and let this foolish brother properly apologize to you in person.”
Zhong Qing’s face was full of spring breeze as he dragged Jing Hengbo along without her feet touching the ground. Jing Hengbo wanted to refuse but suddenly smelled an enticing food aroma. Looking around, she saw that the seemingly weak Zhong Qing had very quickly arranged for refreshments to be served. Osmanthus lotus seed congee, lily cakes, crystal shrimp dumplings, jade shumai—colorful and fragrant. Already hungry and struggling to make a living, Jing Hengbo immediately found herself involuntarily following along.
Below, the liveliness resumed as people continued gambling, with no one noticing a shadow flash at the entrance.
Jing Hengbo followed Zhong Qing, not noticing that the large group of attendants had somehow disappeared.
Then she suddenly discovered that the stairway to the third floor was empty.
No stairs?
Zhong Qing stood at the stairway entrance, smiling smugly.
“Stairs, come.” He looked up and called out in a very pretentious, melodious voice.
Suddenly all the surrounding walls groaned and creaked, popping out countless horizontal wooden strips that quickly assembled together, instantly forming a suspended staircase.
“Wonderful!” Jing Hengbo praised, smiling as she looked at Zhong Qing. “You designed this? Really awesome!”
Like an American sci-fi blockbuster—hard to believe such design could be seen in this ancient border town.
Zhong Qing’s pale face flushed with excited pride. He tried to sound casual: “Small matter.”
A woman’s admiring, bright gaze always made men release large amounts of hormones. Zhong Qing was now in high spirits, especially attentive when helping Jing Hengbo onto the ladder. Jing Hengbo smiled and pinched his face to show appreciation. Young Master Zhong became even happier, his gaze burning like a wolf’s.
A shadow seemed to flash on the beam above, but with one looking down at stairs and one focused on beauty, no one noticed.
“It’s just that the suspended ladder looks a bit scary.” Jing Hengbo looked down at the staircase—she could see people’s heads on the two floors below.
Zhong Qing smiled even more proudly and mysteriously, eagerly snapping his fingers.
“Boards, come!”
With a crisp snap, all the suspended wooden boards suddenly slid out thin boards horizontally, dropped down perpendicularly and connected with clicks—a complete staircase was assembled.
“Ingenious imagination!” Jing Hengbo hadn’t expected this additional layer of design. Her eyes widened in amazement: “How did you think of this!”
The genuine admiration in her voice could be heard by anyone. Her gorgeous face, bright with surprise, had glowing eyes and translucent red skin, as if covered with a layer of pearl light—warm and dazzling.
Zhong Qing was so delighted he seemed ready to float, laughing: “Just small tricks… The ladder boards were recently oiled with tung oil, careful not to slip… Aiya!”
Before finishing his sentence, a strange wind suddenly swept past, hitting his feet and making him slip. He tumbled head-first down the stairs with bangs and clangs.
Jing Hengbo was startled and quickly ran down to help him: “What happened? These stairs aren’t slippery at all.”
“I don’t know either…” Zhong Qing’s face was flushed red. The tung oil on these stairs was from a month ago—they weren’t slippery at all. He had just wanted to gallantly support the beauty’s jade arm. How did he fall?
Jing Hengbo reached out to help him. In the dim stairway, her fingers looked like jade, and from Zhong Qing’s angle, he could see her pearl-like earlobes beside her thick black hair, glowing with a faint pink and having one crystal-clear small hole each.
Ear piercings.
Seeing this at first glance, he knew she was a woman.
Rich fragrance floated around, becoming even more distinct in the dark room. The aroma was intense yet natural, reminding Zhong Qing of famous flowers like peonies, Chinese peonies, and dahlias. These flowers known for their beauty had no fragrance, but somehow he felt she had the beauty of peonies and Chinese peonies plus the fragrance they couldn’t possess—blessed by heaven with perfection.
Zhong Qing’s heart heated up.
He was the only son of Old Marshal Xi Kang, weak from birth and living in seclusion, accustomed to pale, lonely days. In his spare time, he could only play with mechanical arts using his rare talent. Due to his physical condition, he had never thought about women before, nor felt women were important.
But today seemed different.
Perhaps pale, sickly young men were more easily attracted to uniquely charming, outwardly flamboyant mature beauties.
Zhong Qing felt both embarrassed and happy as he reached for Jing Hengbo’s fingers. Just as their fingertips were about to touch, Jing Hengbo suddenly said “Who pushed me?” and leaned forward.
Their fingers crossed past each other. Jing Hengbo couldn’t control her body and stumbled down a step, banging into Zhong Qing who was trying to get up, knocking him down again.
“Ahhhh…” Zhong Qing’s delicate waist scraped down the wooden boards step by step, his spine rubbing against the hard wood making horrible scraping sounds.
“Bang bang bang.” He tumbled to the bottom again, head down and crotch up.
Jing Hengbo held her finger in her mouth, eyes wide as saucers, feeling that today was inauspicious and she should have burned incense first.
She looked back—where was anyone at the stairway entrance? Where did that strange wind that pushed her back come from?
Zhong Qing lay groaning at the bottom, looking up tearfully: “Alas, the difficulty of ascending stairs, long sighs and tears to cover grief.”
This time Jing Hengbo didn’t dare help him. Zhong Qing climbed up shakily, finally without further incident. Reaching the top, he leaned against the stairway entrance, panting: “Beautiful…”
Jing Hengbo’s gaze was already attracted by a huge boxwood screen.
Facing her was a massive boxwood wall covered with sunflowers, each as large as a wheel, with full seed heads, heads raised and chests out in handsome poses.
Jing Hengbo thought for a moment and hadn’t noticed locals having a preference for sunflower decorations—usually peonies, peach blossoms, and such.
“Are these sunflowers beautiful?” Zhong Qing’s expression was intoxicated. “They only bloom facing the sun, with lofty aspirations and unique character. Don’t they look particularly strong, particularly upright, particularly… like me?”
Jing Hengbo glanced at his snake-like waist and frost-like face, feeling that except for the two characters “facing sun” which particularly suited his bottom temperament, nothing else was similar.
“No good, no good.” She shook her head vigorously. “Why use such ugly flowers? Why use such stupid flowers? If people were like these flowers, that would be terrible—stupidly only knowing to look in one direction. What if there are ghosts behind? And this body shape—thin body with a huge head. Are you afraid people won’t remember your poor development?”
Zhong Qing made an “eh” sound, never having imagined anyone would interpret his beloved noble sunflowers this way. Hearing this, looking at those sunflowers again, he suddenly found their posture boring and faces detestable.
“Then what flowers do you think suit me?”
“Chrysanthemums!” Jing Hengbo excitedly patted the boxwood screen. “Chrysanthemums best suit your temperament—they’re the classic symbol of all top-quality beautiful men! If this whole wall were chrysanthemums, big chrysanthemums, small chrysanthemums, golden chrysanthemums, how beautiful and emotionally stirring it would be!”
Not knowing which mechanism her dancing touched, the screen rumbled and split in two. Jing Hengbo tumbled inside and looked up to see a room full of sunflower vases, sunflower curtains, sunflower carpets, sunflower chairs—golden and magnificent, with huge flower heads assaulting the eyes.
Jing Hengbo shook her head repeatedly: “Too tasteless. Why not chrysanthemums? Change them all to chrysanthemums—how beautiful!”
“If I change them all to chrysanthemums, will you like it?” Zhong Qing’s breathless question seemed right behind her. Jing Hengbo could almost feel the heat of his nervous breathing.
Jing Hengbo turned around and indeed saw Zhong Qing’s pale face just five centimeters behind her head. Because of her sudden turn, the young man couldn’t hide the desire and admiration in his eyes. Jing Hengbo was stunned by that suddenly burning gaze when Zhong Qing had already grabbed her hand.
“If I change everything here to what you like, will you stay?” Zhong Qing gripped her hand, whispering earnestly yet timidly in her ear: “I know you’re a woman. You seem to be alone. I won’t ask about your background. I just want to please you. If I follow your wishes in everything and pamper you, will you… will you stay and keep me company?”
In the dim private room lighting, the young man’s pale, bluish face rarely showed a blush, and his hand holding Jing Hengbo’s trembled slightly.
Jing Hengbo’s hand tentatively pulled back. Zhong Qing felt her withdrawal, his face paling, but unwilling to give up, he tightened his grip on her hand.
Jing Hengbo rolled her eyes, feeling strange inside. If initially she hadn’t minded playing with this seriously ill young man, now with these different intentions, she didn’t want to stay even one minute longer.
Responsibilities she couldn’t bear should be avoided. Playing around was fine, but if he got serious and she ran away later, what if he had a heart attack? Look at those little lips—they’d turned purple as mulberries just from climbing stairs.
Facing Zhong Qing’s hopeful gaze, she smiled cheerfully and reached out, preparing to refuse in a tactful way that wouldn’t hurt his pride.
Like touching his face and saying something nice like “little brother, you’re so handsome, sister fell in love at first sight, but sister is already married and is damaged goods, couldn’t conscientiously harm you.”
Before her finger touched Zhong Qing’s face, wind suddenly rose behind her. The wind whooshed past her cheek, and she watched wide-eyed as a puff of black smoke flew from her hair like mist before her eyes.
Looking carefully—damn, all the short hair on her right temple was gone.
The sharp wind that swept past her cheek didn’t stop, “whooshing” toward Zhong Qing’s forehead. The next instant Zhong Qing closed his eyes and fell straight onto the floor with a bang.
Before Jing Hengbo’s scream could escape, suddenly there was a “thunk” behind her head, and her vision went black.
Bang—she also fell straight down.
The sunflower-filled room was quiet, seemingly empty.
After a while, a pair of soft-soled boots appeared at the doorway, silently stepping on the luxurious sunflower carpet.
The visitor walked leisurely, as if strolling in his own courtyard. His robe hem flowed like clouds across the human world. Passing Zhong Qing’s side, he seemed not to see him and stepped on his arm.
The unconscious Zhong Qing grimaced in his sleep.
The person stopped beside Jing Hengbo, lightly scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack.
Then he turned and casually tossed a paper covered with writing, which fluttered down beside the unconscious Zhong Qing.
“承蒙公子错爱，妾身敢不从命？只是妾身痴迷于菊，见菊则喜，失菊则伤。公子称对妾身无有不应，如此，请公子为妾身置此菊花屋。诸般器物，帐幕被褥，且请皆为菊花。花屋落成之日，妾身定为公子请执箕帚，自荐枕席。请以三月为期，届时，妾身定与公子，喜结秦晋之好，遂成金玉良缘。”
[Translation: “Grateful for your misplaced affection, how dare I not comply? But I am obsessed with chrysanthemums—seeing them brings joy, losing them brings sorrow. Since you say you’ll grant my every wish, please create a chrysanthemum room for me. All furnishings, curtains, and bedding should be chrysanthemums. When the flower room is completed, I will gladly serve you and offer myself. Please give me three months. Then I will surely unite with you in marriage and achieve a perfect match.”]
…
When Jing Hengbo opened her eyes, she thought she was still sleeping.
So dark—she must still be dreaming.
She closed her eyes again, then reopened them. This time she was certain she wasn’t asleep.
She rolled up in one motion, sensing this was a room, but there was no light, no people, no sound, no breathing, not even any sense of living matter—it felt like… a dead place.
Yes, a dead place, filled with deathly energy, completely lifeless.
Jing Hengbo shivered, trying hard to remember what had happened before. Only Zhong Qing’s pale, shocked face and rooms full of sunflowers floated in her mind.
Oh, and a strange light that seemed to pass through from behind her.
She felt around—Er Gouzi wasn’t there, Feifei wasn’t there, and naturally Cui Jie, Jing Jun, and Yong Xue weren’t there either. This place seemed to contain only her.
A terrifying thought suddenly emerged, gripping all her nerves.
Ah, had she transmigrated again?
The strangely complete darkness around her, with no light at all—had she not transmigrated properly and accidentally ended up in a space-time black hole or space-time crack like in those melodramatic novels?
This thought made all the hair on Jing Hengbo’s head stand up.
She jumped up and groped around—no doors or windows.
She knocked on the walls—the sounds were muffled, and all sides felt solid.
The surrounding space was very narrow—three steps could cross it completely. Strangely, despite being so narrow, she didn’t feel suffocated.
Jing Hengbo blinked, feeling like a large stone pressed on her heart. She remembered reading on forums about extreme darkness’s psychological oppression, saying that being locked in a black room was worse than any torture, though she hadn’t believed it. Today she finally experienced it.
Extreme darkness and silence caused loss of vision and self-awareness. The fear, wild thoughts, and mental confusion this generated were the greatest weapons for harming people. The longer it lasted, the more dangerous it became.
Jing Hengbo wanted to teleport, but the height here wasn’t enough—she couldn’t stand completely straight, so she couldn’t leave. Knowing this was bad, she quickly closed her eyes to sleep, thinking that since she’d slept and transmigrated out before, maybe she could sleep and transmigrate back—to the modern world, back to Da Yan, anywhere was fine, just not staying in this pitch-black darkness.
She didn’t know if she slept or for how long—it seemed like a long time yet like just an instant. When she opened her eyes again, she still couldn’t see herself, still faced heavy, oppressive, suffocating darkness. Cold sweat slowly seeped out.
Suddenly there were faint sounds overhead.
Jing Hengbo’s body stiffened as she looked up. While nervous, she felt slightly relieved—sounds were good, better than extreme silence. Complete silence would drive people mad.
The sounds seemed to come from far away.
At first it was wind, splashing water, rustling leaves, and various small sounds like buzzing insects and chirping birds. Silent yet full of quiet liveliness, like someone walking through rivers, mountains, and forests, looking around with frightened eyes at the strange nature. Jing Hengbo suddenly felt dazed, remembering her days walking through mountains and forests with Gong Yin.
Then everything suddenly went quiet. Jing Hengbo, who had been listening intently, was startled and involuntarily held her breath. In the silence, birds didn’t call, insects didn’t chirp, leaves didn’t move—only wind sounds continued howling, getting closer and closer.
Jing Hengbo began to feel nervous. She suddenly thought of that fierce beast, the leopard.
Then the wind grew fierce, and the entire forest seemed suddenly awakened. From hidden silence to extreme stillness to sudden explosion—leaves swayed wildly, birds flew high, insects hid in holes, small beasts took cover. Some agile animals fled in groups across the treetops.
All sounds conveyed four words: danger approaching, flee quickly!
Sound transmission was particularly vivid in the darkness, making one feel immersed. Jing Hengbo began searching for holes to hide in.
No holes were found—all sides seemed iron-solid. Then a low roar sounded behind Jing Hengbo.
Jing Hengbo’s body froze instantly, every hair on her back seeming to stand up.
A fierce beast!
In extreme terror, she vaguely felt this sensation seemed familiar, but in extreme fear, attention only focuses on one’s senses without thinking ability.
The roar was close at hand. The animals in the forest became even more panicked and frenzied. Jing Hengbo pressed tightly to the ground, feeling as if the beast’s bloody mouth and stinking breath was right above her head, with crystalline saliva a foot and a half long trembling down. As it roared, violent wind swept through the forest.
Suddenly a fierce wind sound passed overhead, as if the beast was leaping over the woods. Then a thud—like a human body being knocked down by the beast. Jing Hengbo’s goosebumps rose all over, feeling as if she herself had been knocked down.
The forest quieted briefly. Leaves drooped listlessly, and animals breathed rapidly, seemingly hiding behind trees and secretly watching.
Muffled chewing sounds began, accompanied by constant subtle cracking, crunching, and tearing sounds. The beast seemed to be enjoying its feast, chewing, swallowing, stepping on bones, tearing flesh, greedily gnawing bite by bite…
Now even Jing Hengbo’s scalp went numb.
Darkness amplified human sensations infinitely, causing infinite sensitivity and making it difficult to distinguish one’s environment and situation. With such realistic sound effects, people with similar experiences found it even harder to stay clearheaded. Jing Hengbo gradually became confused, as if she were the one being pressed under the beast’s stinking body, being torn and gnawed bite by bite by those bloody jaws and vicious teeth…
Muscles tearing, flesh and blood flying, fear and pain, despair and confusion. Her breathing gradually became violent, her thinking gradually muddled. She only instinctively struggled forward, wanting to escape this terrible sensation…
One inch, two inches—she felt that soul-crushing, bone-corroding terrible sound gradually weakening. She was covered in cold sweat, completely exhausted. She lay on the ground panting for a while, struggling to get up, trying to knock on walls for help again. She thought if someone rescued her from this terrible black hole now, she would pledge herself to them. If they didn’t fancy her, she could sell Taishi Lan, Jun Ke, and Wen Zhen…
While thinking wildly, suddenly there was a “crack” behind her.
Particularly crisp and loud, bone-chillingly terrifying.
Like a waist bone being bitten through by steel teeth.
Blood and flesh flying, the two halves of the body falling to the ground…
“Ahhh—” She finally couldn’t stand such intense stimulation and screamed, her voice miserable, as if to pierce through this black hole and stab the entire universe bloody.
With a muffled bang, the ground shook, then light appeared before her eyes, as if the darkness was suddenly torn open. A tall figure flashed in at invisible speed and tightly embraced her.
“What’s wrong…” The voice trembled slightly. “How could…”
Jing Hengbo thought this voice sounded like Gong Yin’s, but the tone was definitely not like him. How could Gong Yin be anxious and trembling? Did he have human emotions?
But somehow, hearing his voice, she inexplicably softened, hanging limply on his arm covered in sweat, still managing to raise her arm with her last breath and weakly grab his neck.
How could you come so late!
“Hengbo!” He seemed to be calling her name, his voice still urgent. Jing Hengbo again thought she was hallucinating—how could Gong Yin call her name? He always coldly called her “Your Majesty” or just “hey!”
She tightened her fingers, wanting to grab his neck and shake him vigorously, asking what exactly happened, asking why he was late to rescue her, asking if he still wanted to live. But before she could shake him, she swayed herself and rolled her eyes.
She fainted.
…
Gong Yin crouched in the darkness holding Jing Hengbo, stunned for the first time in his life.
How could this happen?
Someone approached from behind, pulling away the black cloth with a whoosh. Bright daylight flooded in.
If Jing Hengbo were conscious now, she’d probably die of anger.
The so-called black hole was just the previous iron horse carriage. Only the wheels had been removed, the carriage door closed tight, black cloth covering all sides, blocking all light. It became a seamless “black hole.”
Because the carriage was sealed, it was naturally very quiet. Everyone was driven away from the carriage and forbidden to make any sound. Only one guard skilled in vocal mimicry crouched near the carriage.
Now that vocal mimicry guard was bending over, sneaking away from Gong Yin. From the aura emanating from Gong Yin and Jing Hengbo’s condition, he knew he’d caused trouble. Though this trouble was Gong Yin’s idea and couldn’t be blamed on him, he was very worried that the currently wrong-looking State Preceptor might kill someone in anger.
Thin guard captain Meng Hu silently directed people to reorganize the carriage, kicked the vocal mimicry guard to make him get far away, and ordered people to quickly find a doctor and nearby inn, ensuring everything was handled properly to avoid everyone suffering when the State Preceptor came to his senses and flew into rage.
Meng Hu worked hard while sighing, secretly glancing at Gong Yin, then glancing again.
Others didn’t know what was wrong with the State Preceptor, but he could vaguely guess.
From the Female Empress’s “escape” onward, Lord State Preceptor had been wrong.
A person who never liked disguises actually disguised himself.
Following beside her watching her smile charmingly at others, he observed coldly.
Hiding in alleys watching her rob passersby, he remained silent with pursed lips.
At the gambling table when she jumped up to display her beauty, his face began turning blue.
On the stairs when she extended a helping hand to Zhong Qing, his expression began darkening.
In the private room when Zhong Qing had the audacity to confess, he finally exploded—
The displeasure that began from hearing her vividly describe his “death” scene finally accumulated to a near-explosive level, prompting him to retaliate and give that too flirtatious, too romantic, careless, disobedient woman a small “punishment.”
The thinking was actually simple.
Didn’t you curse me to be bitten through the waist by a leopard and eaten bite by bite?
I’ll let you hear the sound of being bitten through the waist by a leopard and eaten bite by bite.
Does it sound enjoyable? Happy?
…
Meng Hu sighed.
She heard it, and the punishment was administered, but it seemed like Lord State Preceptor was the one being punished.
When simulating the leopard devouring human sounds, Lord State Preceptor seemed to realize something was wrong and flew over to interrupt, running so fast he stepped into a depression in the ground. A great master actually sprained his ankle.
So the last straw that broke the camel’s back, that terrible sound simulating a bitten waist bone, wasn’t the vocal artist’s masterpiece.
It was just Gong Yin’s ankle bone being severely twisted…
Meng Hu sighed again.
The brilliant and mighty Lord State Preceptor seemed to have… perhaps… maybe… possibly had his wisdom decline since meeting the unreliable Female Empress.
Thinking of the thunder and lightning when Her Majesty woke up and learned the truth, Meng Hu felt a headache but didn’t dare give his master any more advice. He quickly stayed far away.
Sigh, Master…
Good luck to you!