Song Qingchao, as she swung through the air, felt the rope transmit a force that suggested she had snagged on something.
She struggled to control her off-balance body.
Still, her skin and flesh were painfully scraped by the protruding rocks.
“Damn it.”
She looped her hand around the rope, grabbed the dagger she’d retrieved from her spatial storage with her other hand, bit off the sheath, spat it out, and then fiercely plunged it into the cliff face, trying to stabilize herself.
She sucked in a sharp breath, forced herself to look up, but dust obscured her eyes, and fragments of rock continued to strike her.
She simply lowered her head, closed her eyes, and listened to the sounds.
Faintly, she heard the clash of swords.
“The Fang family?”
Upon hearing those two words, Song Qingchao’s eyes snapped open, ignoring the tears streaming from the sand in them.
It was still too early for Miss Shen’s ailment to manifest, and the Fang family was already out seeking this Forget Worry Grass…
There must be something unusual going on.
She looked down at the bottomless cliff, again searching for a point of leverage, and with a burst of force, lunged towards the cave where the Forget Worry Grass was located.
Song Qingchao’s hands gripped the rock face, twisting to cut a shorter vine.
Then, with a heave of her arm, she propelled herself into the cave.
She couldn't die; Mumu was still waiting for her!
Song Qingchao landed on one knee, crawling forward to reach the Forget Worry Grass. The moment she touched it, a fragrance filled the air.
After obtaining the medicine and storing it in her spatial dimension, she didn’t rush to return. Instead, she tentatively reached for the rope at her waist.
While the silk was precious, if it broke…
After waiting for a while, the sound of clashing swords ceased. Song Qingchao poked her head out and tentatively tugged the rope.
She had to admit, the Fang family was quite considerate.
They fought, but they didn’t randomly hack.
Song Qingchao gripped the rope tightly with both hands, her feet leaving the ground, and began to climb upwards with great effort.
After only a few steps.
Several people, accompanied by screams, plummeted down, startling her into tightening her grip on the rope and pressing herself flat against the cliff face.
She gritted her teeth, her face turning pale. Would she be kicked down soon too…
Song Qingchao looked up, her pupils widening.
A man was diving downwards, but he suddenly grabbed her rope.
The momentum sent her precarious stance back into the air.
The man held the rope with one hand, his back straight as he pushed off the wall with his feet, while his other hand swung a specially designed rope weapon upwards, attacking those who poked their heads out.
He entangled countless people by their necks and dragged them off the cliff. He didn’t stop there; as they fell beside him, he would unleash a blade and deliver a kick.
The brutal scene made Song Qingchao dizzy. Even as the rope at her waist rubbed fiercely against her soft flesh, causing her body to repeatedly slam against the cliff, she felt no pain.
She feared that this killing god had gone mad and would drag her along with him.
Just as she had predicted, the support at her waist instantly vanished, and the taut rope began to loosen.
The person above had finally found her hidden rope and cut it.
She frantically grasped at the rope, simultaneously trying every method to carve into the cliff with her dagger, shaking so hard her tiger’s mouth cracked open, blood gushing down her arm and dripping into the bottomless abyss.
She couldn't die!
Barely stabilizing herself, before Song Qingchao could even catch her breath, the person pulling her rope from above fell, and a force instantly wrapped around her waist, dragging her backward.
The blood-stained dagger slipped like an eel, impossible to grip, and she tipped over with it.
The colorful silk created a brilliant scroll in the azure sky, but a slender arm reached out from behind her, its well-defined knuckles holding a black iron launcher.
With a “whoosh,” as his index finger pulled the trigger, a cowhide whip shot out from the launcher. The grappling hook at its end tore through the silk and shot into the air, firmly grasping a protruding rock.
“Don’t be afraid.”
A lazy, low voice warmed her earlobe.
Song Qingchao, still shaken, still clutched her sleeve and tried hard to calm herself.
“Young… Ah!”
She was so startled she bit her lip, trying desperately not to make a sound, letting the man holding her act as he moved, pulling her back into the cave they had just left.
Song Qingchao lay on the ground, the seductive voice continuing.
“So…” His voice rose, yet he spoke like a lecher. “It’s a pretty young lady.”
“Young Master, please behave.”
She lifted her pale face and glared at the speaker.
The man’s delicate and clear face was adorned with a subtle smile, his danfeng eyes exuding charm, but his sharp features balanced the softness.
And the scent of blood on him revealed his resolute nature, willing to risk everything.
A madman.
This was the only word Song Qingchao could think of.
They were of the same kind.
Her chin was gently pinched, and the man’s exquisite face hovered before her.
“I saved you, so it’s not a total loss.”
“Then this young lady should thank Young Master for his rescue?”
“That may not be impossible.”
The man’s fingers traced upwards along her jawline, tucking a strand of her damp hair behind her ear.
Song Qingchao dared not move rashly; she knew her place.
“Thank you, Young Master.” Without losing her composure, she stepped back and curtsied, skillfully creating distance between them.
“Heh.” The man withdrew his hand from the air and lazily rested it on his propped leg, looking fixedly at Song Qingchao. “Don’t call me Young Master, it ages me.”
He flicked his sleeve and propped his face with his hand. “Everyone calls me Second Master.”
“May I ask Young… Your surname?”
Song Qingchao lowered her head, stealing a glance at him, and immediately lowered it again when she felt his gaze sweep over her.
“Bai.”
Bai?
Why… was it the Bai family again?
As she pondered, her chin was lifted again.
“Shouldn’t this young lady offer herself to me now?”
Song Qingchao forced a smile and nodded, her hand already gripping her dagger.
Second Master Bai’s hand slid to her fair neck, then he leaned in abruptly, and with his other hand, grasped the hilt of the dagger she held hidden in her sleeve.
“You’re so unwilling, it seems the scripts are all lies.”
A tingling sensation accompanied by warm breath tickled her ear, clouding Song Qingchao’s mind.
“You want to kill me with this thing.”
His voice was flippant, full of amusement, and devoid of any tension.
Song Qingchao’s eyes reddened, but she refused to let go. He pried her fingers open one by one, tearing her skin and leaving a few red marks.
Second Master Bai raised an eyebrow, drew a cut across his fingertip with the blade, and then, with a raised brow, leaned close to Song Qingchao. “But, if you kill me, can you get out of here?”
Song Qingchao decided to drop the pretense.
With a stern face, she quickly took out another dagger and held it to Second Master Bai’s throat. “If you hadn’t shown up, I would have been out of here long ago.”
“Why is this young lady so full of malice?”
Second Master Bai was not to be outdone. He grabbed her dagger-wielding hand, spun her around, and pinned her to the ground.
Song Qingchao was equally stubborn, straining to push back.
They exchanged words, and in the end, half of her body was suspended in mid-air. httpδ:/m.kuAisugg.nět
“Second Master, are you blind? This young lady’s face is already ruined, there’s nothing to covet.” Song Qingchao turned her face away.
“Is that so?” Second Master Bai chuckled softly. “But I feel an immediate kinship with you, young lady.”
He reached out and touched the scar on Song Qingchao’s face. “We must have met in a past life, what do you say?”