Chapter 685: Killing Intent!

When Jiang Feng finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room eased a little.

Ling Zhaixing pressed the gauze on her shoulder, her fingertip pressing on the already soaked fabric, her gaze fixed on Jiang Feng's face as if re‑examining him.

Her eyelashes twitched slightly, her lips moved as if to say something, but before she could speak, a rapid ringing suddenly came from Jiang Feng.

Jiang Feng lowered his head, pulled the black phone from his collar, glanced at the screen, answered and held it to his ear.

"Hello."

The voice on the other end was muffled, hoarse through the signal, but spoke quickly.

Jiang Feng listened, his face expressionless.

Ling Zhaixing leaned against the bedpost, her eyes never leaving him.

Soon, Jiang Feng removed the phone from his ear, hung up, and looked up at Ling Zhaixing.

"I just got word..."

He said with a relaxed expression.

"Jiangnan Wang is already awake."

Ling Zhaixing's body tensed sharply.

She unintentionally squeezed the hand on her shoulder harder, a sharp pain radiated from the wound beneath the gauze, yet she seemed completely unaware.

Her pupils contracted, the line at the corner of her mouth sharpened instantly, and she resembled a disturbed sleeping beast, every hair on her body standing on end.

She sprang up from the bedside, moving too hastily; darkness flashed before her eyes, and she staggered.

She reached for the bedpost to steady herself, a suppressed hum emanating from her throat, but her gaze remained locked on Jiang Feng's face, the hatred in her eyes resurfacing like a sudden flame beneath a calm water surface.

Jiang Feng watched her like that, neither dodging nor stepping forward to help.

He stood there, his tone light, as if stating something utterly ordinary.

"Come with me to Jiangnan Wangfu."

He said.

"Your matter must have an end."

Ling Zhaixing was momentarily stunned by those words.

She stared blankly at Jiang Feng, as if checking whether she had misheard.

After a few breaths, a cold smile tugged at her mouth.

"Aren't you afraid I'll lose control and kill him?"

She asked.

Her voice was soft, yet each word carried a metallic edge.

Jiang Feng looked at her, his gaze calm.

"If he truly deserves to die... I won't stop you."

Ling Zhaixing's eyes narrowed slightly.

Jiang Feng continued, his tone unchanged.

"But we must discuss it clearly. I know this has been a thorn in your heart."

His voice lowered a bit.

"That's why you left in a hurry before, without even a greeting."

After those words, Ling Zhaixing's cold smile gradually froze.

She stared at Jiang Feng, the sharpness in her gaze like a crack pried open at the edge, with something seeping out from beneath.

Her lips pressed into a line, her shoulders drawn tight.

She said nothing.

Jiang Feng also gave her no urging.

Ling Zhaixing stood there, head lowered; after a long while, her shoulders relaxed slightly.

She inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, then lifted her head to look at Jiang Feng.

"Considering you once saved me..."

"I can spare his life for now."

She paused, her gaze sharpening again.

"But if he can't give me an answer!"

She didn't finish her sentence.

Jiang Feng immediately took over her line.

"Then next time you strike him, I will never intervene."

Ling Zhaixing stared at him intently.

Jiang Feng met that gaze, without averting.

The air between them seemed twisted tight by something, taut and gleaming.

Ling Zhaixing's chest rose and fell violently twice, the hostility cloaking her eyes like a block of ice, melting from below by some warm thing, cracking into fine fissures.

After a long while, she finally moved.

She lowered her gaze, watching the gauze pressed to her shoulder, her fingertip slowly releasing; she lowered her hand, stood barefoot in place, her voice soft.

"Let's go."

She said.

Jiang Feng nodded, turned, grabbed a clean outer robe from the nearby shelf and handed it to her.

Ling Zhaixing took it, draped it over herself, gathered stray hair behind her ears, and looked up at Jiang Feng.

The two exited the door, one after the other.

Soon, the two arrived at Jiangnan Wangfu.

At this moment, Jiangnan Wangfu no longer had yesterday's tension, but still many Royal Guard remained vigilantly on guard.

Song Dianjun stood at the doorway, his back straight as a nail driven into the ground.

He saw Jiang Feng walking over, about to bow his hands in salute, but his gaze was drawn to the figure behind Jiang Feng.

Ling Zhaixing wrapped in her outer robe, her steps neither fast nor slow, her face expressionless.

Song Dianjun's brows furrowed briefly.

He stared at Ling Zhaixing for a few breaths, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if discerning something obscure.

He felt the figure was somewhat familiar, the Shoulders' lines and Walking posture seen somewhere, but he could not recall at the moment.

Nevertheless, his vigilance prompted swift action; his hand already rested on the knife hilt at his waist, his gaze scanning Ling Zhaixing's every movement, missing no detail.

Jiang Feng walked to the doorway and stopped.

Song Dianjun withdrew his gaze, looked at Jiang Feng, hesitated briefly, and asked.

"Mr. Jiang, this person is……"

Jiang Feng gave him a brief glance, Tone showed no fluctuation.

"This person is yesterday's assassin."

Song Dianjun's eyes widened sharply.

He barely thought, the knife at his waist already drawn half out, the blade flashing a bright white light in the morning.

His body stepped forward, exactly blocking between Jiang Feng and Ling Zhaixing, the knife handle gripped tightly, the blue veins on the back of his hand slightly protruding.

"Don't move."

He said.

His voice was pressed low, yet each word carried a rust‑like hardness.

Ling Zhaixing stood in place, unmoving.

She looked at Song Dianjun blocking her, her gaze faint, even not drawing her hand from beneath the outer robe.

Song Dianjun held the knife, his gaze sharply locked on Ling Zhaixing's face, Breath slightly deepened.

Just as tension rose, a voice came from within the room.

"Stop."

The voice was soft, bearing obvious Weakness, its tail slightly airy, yet the weight in the Tone did not lessen at all. Each word was bitten clearly, as if ripped from a deep Injury.

Song Dianjun's action froze.

His hand on the knife hilt did not release, but his whole body seemed nailed to the spot, taking no further step forward.

His brows twisted tightly, his gaze shifted from Ling Zhaixing's face, turning his head toward the interior.

Jiangnan Wang leaned on the bed, his upper body propped by a thick pillow, his complexion white as rice paper, his lips almost without color.

The gauze around his chest was neatly wrapped, the three cuts fully covered, yet with each breath he involuntarily furrowed his brows a bit.

His gaze passed over the threshold, over Song Dianjun's Shoulders, landing on the person at the doorway.

Ling Zhaixing stood in the morning light, the hem of her outer robe fluttered in the wind, swaying slightly.

Jiangnan Wang looked at her for a few breaths.

Then he smiled.

The smile was shallow, the mouth corner only slightly upturned, but because his complexion was so pallid, that hint of smile appeared especially clear. He looked at Ling Zhaixing, as if seeing something unexpected yet, upon reflection, entirely natural.

"Miss Ling……"

He said, his voice low, hoarse with insufficient Breath.

"I should have realized earlier that the one who acted yesterday was you."

His gaze fell on the Shoulders of Ling Zhaixing wrapped in the outer robe, beneath which gauze was bound, and under the gauze a fresh knife wound.

"It seems you didn't gain anything either."

Jiang Feng felt some discontent.

"You almost lost your dog's life... and now you say this? Less nonsense, you should know the purpose I brought her here."

Jiangnan Wang gave a wry smile.

"I must thank Mr. Jiang, who saved my life yesterday..."

He paused, then looked at Ling Zhaixing.

"Miss Ling, the matter of your Sect, indeed I originally sent people to handle!"

Buzz!

As Jiangnan Wang's words finished, a strong Killing Intent instantly spread from Ling Zhaixing's body.