Fang Yuan turned his attention to the items in his hand.
The hairpin was simple at first glance, sleek, elegant, but clearly crafted with precision.
There were faint engravings along its length, subtle enough to be missed by an untrained eye, but to Fang Yuan, each stroke shimred faintly with spiritual resonance.
The spatial ring, on the other hand, was more traditional, black with a silver inlay of coiling clouds, its weight deceptively light for the power it held.
From beside him, Lin Zhaoyue leaned in slightly, her voice a sultry whisper, teasing and soft:
"Wanna know what the artifact’s for?"
She gestured toward the hairpin with a delicate finger, the smile on her lips curling like the end of a mystery novel waiting to be spoiled.
Fang Yuan didn’t look at her. His gaze remained fixed on the hairpin, but his brow arched slightly.
"What’s an artifact for if not to kill."
She giggled, swaying a little as she clasped her hands behind her back.
"Mmm~ yes, that too. But that’s just the boring part."
Her eyes glead as she leaned in close again, her voice lowering into a breathy whisper.
"The longer I hold it close to , the more likely I am to... fertilize."
Fang Yuan nearly dropped the hairpin on instinct, jolting like he had touched a cursed object.
She laughed, the sound bright and unbothered.
"Of course it only works on females, silly~."
Fang Yuan shot her a blank stare.
Then, without a word, he turned and began walking deeper into the forest.
In one hand, he still held her spatial ring and the cursed hairpin. Supposedly her prized possessions.
But even as he walked, his spiritual essence stirred.
He activated Golden Shell Armor: Second Form – Bravery, the invisible shield cloaking him like a second skin.
Subtle and invisible.
Constantly tracking danger behind his back.
It drained his qi slowly but not fast enough to worry him. His reserves were vast.
And even if it wasn’t, his live was far more worthwhile.
Precautions were simply the smart thing to do.
Especially with her at his side.
She followed behind at an even pace, humming a little tune, as if they were on so romantic stroll.
And then, she suddenly spoke.
"Can I walk in front?"
Fang Yuan’s steps slowed.
Walk ahead?
Fang Yuan’s steps slowed.
She wants to walk ahead now? Why?
Does she know? Can she sense the Golden Shell? Maybe she’s been probing this entire ti, looking for weaknesses...
His gaze flicked toward her subtly, just enough to observe, never enough to provoke.
First she gave her weapon. Her ring. Now she wants to lead? No. No no no. This isn’t right.
What am I even doing? Letting her follow ? Am I insane?
His fingers twitched.
They say a single mont of carelessness can cost a cultivator their life. And now I’m just walking through the forest with so lunatic girl who calls herself my wife?
He clenched his jaw.
So what if she says she’s Lin Feng? That was a lifeti ago. I was seven. She could’ve read my mories for all I know! There are soul-reading techniques. Hypnosis scripts. Hell, even illusion arrays!
His breath hitched, barely but it was there.
I don’t trust her.
I don’t know her.
And finally, he stopped walking.
He turned, movents slow, deliberate.
His expression was unreadable, flat, calm but his eyes were cold and distant.
He held out the spatial ring and hairpin, steady as a blade.
"Here," he said quietly. "Take them back."
His voice was firm and final.
"And please, leave alone. If you truly want to et again, you can visit the Fang family estate. Officially."
There was no edge to his tone.
Just cold boundaries.
Lin Zhaoyue looked stunned.
Her arms didn’t reach for the items.
Instead, she stared at him, eyes wide, shimring with sothing deeper.
"You still don’t trust ?" she whispered.
Her voice cracked, just slightly.
As if tears threatened but didn’t fall.
Fang Yuan turned his head away, his gaze slipping off her face like water off stone.
No. Because this doesn’t add up.
What are the odds? Truly?
You wander into a forbidden forest, one of the most dangerous in the region and just happen to run into soone you haven’t seen since you were seven years old?
His brow twitched.
Seven. That’s over two decade ago.
Both had no communication. No sightings of each other. There were no news. And now, out of all places and all tis, she just... appears saying she’s him?
How is she even certain that he was Fang Yuan unless she tracked him from the very beginning?
He scoffed under his breath.
What kind of fantasy world logic is this?
He shook his head slowly, more to himself than to her.
I’m terrible at math, sure. But even I know the odds of this aren’t just low, hey’re abyssal. They have to be hundreds of zeroes after the decimal point. Like digging through a mountain and finding a single hair.
Just then—
Movent.
A rustle of grass. The distinct, asured footsteps of several n.
Fang Yuan’s head snapped toward the sound, footsteps, rustling, the soft grind of boots against undergrowth.
A cold clarity settled into him, quiet, razor-thin, like the edge of a freshly honed blade.
As the shadows stirred and the figures stepped into view, Fang Yuan’s mind began to churn.
Damn it...
So that’s how it is.
This Lin Zhaoyue, what a cunning little fox.
Got talking, lowered my guard, dangled old mories like bait... and all the while, steering exactly where she wanted.
Gaslighted and delivered right into her trap. Tch.
Without hesitation, Fang Yuan moved, three light steps back, smooth and asured putting a clean distance between himself and Lin Zhaoyue.
But when he looked at her,
She wasn’t smiling, nor did she look like she was scheming.
Her entire deanor had shifted.
Gone was the teasing glint in her eyes.
Gone was the flirtation.
Her expression had turned sharp and furious.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her fingers hovered near the hairpin she had just relinquished.
Her aura flared.
Fang Yuan narrowed his eyes.
She’s... angry?
User Comments
0 comments from readers