Chapter 543: Du Tingxiu (9)

A layer of cold sweat instantly covered Luo Qi's forehead, his entire nervous system tensed up, and he nearly attacked regardless of the consequences, as if he were a sharp blade unsheathed.

He struggled to restrain his stress response; in this split second, a part of his consciousness made a vague yet correct judgment. His hand should not have touched the stone yet; if things could go wrong even across space, why would Han Yi have bothered to waste so much breath talking to him for so long?

With just this moment of hesitation, the Space Distortion ended.

Luo Qi was certain that the current space was still the original space; the chair under his bottom and the shop, which was filled with a mixture of Tibetan incense and the smell of aged cheese, had not changed. The only change was that a thick, pungent smell of blood erupted into the air, strongly stimulating his keen sense of smell. Almost at the same time, his cat let out a shrill cry and guardedly leaped onto his shoulder, stepping on his neck with one paw, the tips of its claws causing him a sharp pain.

His fingers, which had been reaching out to touch the Crystal, retracted to grab his cat, and the Crystal fell onto the wooden table, rolling a few times on the tablecloth. Han Yi's hand slammed down, supporting him painfully on the table. Only then did Luo Qi focus his gaze on the target and finally see where the blood was coming from. Blood was gushing down from Han Yi's left shoulder, and a pitch-black dagger was nailed into his shoulder, piercing him through.

Luo Qi was so shocked he stood up and couldn't help but take a step back, his knees hitting the chair, nearly falling back into it. In this moment of utter confusion, a part of his consciousness replayed in his brain what his eyes had already seen, but his mind had missed in its astonishment.

In that instant, there had been no sound of a blade breaking the wind. He had felt a slight Space Distortion, and only now did he realize that the core of that distortion was actually inside Han Yi's body. This feeling was so terrifying that the root of his tongue felt knotted; something horrific was about to happen inside a human body, and Han Yi himself must have been able to perceive it clearly. To know it clearly, yet be unable to stop it—a form growing a core within one's own flesh, condensing into a shape, bursting out from the muscles and bones, severing meridians, and piercing blood vessels. The Mage could even hear this subtle sound; the moment was cruel and desperate. Until the hard metal finally pierced the skin, revealing its head from the flesh and blood, condensing into a dagger that was even somewhat exquisite. Han Yi breathed heavily, his heartbeat like a drum, as if he were nailed to the ground by an invisible spear; the scent of fear he radiated was just like the smell of blood, stifling Luo Qi and making his heart race.

His wound was not necessarily more serious than being stabbed from behind; what was serious was this method of intimidation. Even for Luo Qi, who was not experienced with iron and blood, he felt the meaning of a cold punishment from the back of his tongue. Luo Qi gripped the cat's back, trembling slightly, staring fixedly at the dagger that had grown outward from a human body. It was not the first time Luo Qi had seen that black metal; he was familiar with the texture and grain of this rare metal, and most of the time he found it familiar, as if it bore... Du Zhengyi's signature.

The black metal had condensed out of thin air more than once, forged into different weapons, and put to different uses. Only this time it was exceptionally cruel and bloody, with no sound of wind, and even a Battle Mage could not dodge it. Behind it was the coldness and precision of an assassin. In his stupor, Luo Qi subconsciously thought that Du Zhengyi was indeed skilled at complex Calculation. Moreover, he had silently announced one thing, and that was—he could. He could make a sharp blade grow from anywhere on Han Yi: the shoulder was a warning; next time it might be the guts, or perhaps the brain—to him, there was no difference.

Luo Qi swallowed, and when he looked up, he was startled. People around them had been leaving one after another since a moment ago, but he hadn't realized that the entire second floor was already empty, and even Zhou Quan had disappeared at some point. He subconsciously sniffed; the most unusual thing in the air was the smell of this Tibetan incense. Since a moment ago, his cat had been reminding him that this incense was not normal, that it made people anxious and wanting to leave. But he had been too anxious to know Han Yi's trump card, and he was certain that this incense couldn't do anything to a person, so he had ignored it. Only now did he realize that this was clearly someone silently clearing the area.

He tried hard to recall what the waiter who had come to add incense last looked like, but he really hadn't paid much attention; he only knew that the person was a human. Humans were always overlooked by Mages.

Agile footsteps sounded at this moment, walking across the two full flights of wooden stairs. Luo Qi thought silently that the attack had actually been launched from such a great distance, so even though Han Yi was an excellent Battle Mage, he hadn't been able to detect it in advance.

Du Zhengyi appeared at the top of the stairs, pausing slightly in a place where the light could not reach. Luo Qi dared not look at his expression, much less observe if disappointment was hidden in that shadow, and hurriedly lowered his neck like an ostrich. One of his hands was still carrying the cat, while the other was clutching his clothes in a flustered manner.

Du Zhengyi walked over, his pace even slower, moving gradually toward them, his gaze fixed on Han Yi. With every step he took closer, Luo Qi could feel the temperature on the second floor of the teahouse drop by another degree; the place where the worldly atmosphere was thickest had become as bleak as a graveyard. He almost didn't recognize this Du Zhengyi. It wasn't that he hadn't walked through life and death with him before, but at that time he hadn't been serious, he hadn't cared at all, and he had handled everything with ease. Not like this—like this, without a trace of anything superfluous.

"Hahaha." A cold, chilling laugh suddenly erupted, carrying a rough echo from the throat, startling Luo Qi and making him tighten his grip on the cat. He looked at Han Yi in confusion and caught a glimpse of a very sinister expression on his face. The muscles on his face twisted, and he laughed perversely, pulling at the wound on his shoulder and causing more blood to flow, gritting his teeth as he called out the newcomer's name, "Du, Zhengyi."

Luo Qi suddenly realized he had been wrong. He knew Han Yi hated Du Zhengyi. But he had miscalculated the degree of this hatred. He himself had never deeply hated anyone—perhaps due to his nature—so he had failed to accurately estimate the hatred of others. He thought he hated Li Xu and Zhao Zhiyan for torturing him, but compared to how Han Yi felt about Du Zhengyi, this hatred could probably only be considered... a dislike?

Du Zhengyi walked silently behind Han Yi. Han Yi laughed twitchily, and Luo Qi smelled the thick scent of hatred, anger, hopelessness, and shame again; these smells mixed together like the foul sweat on Pangzi in the summer, combining to form the body odor of a soul. Luo Qi pursed his lips, an impulse rising to completely and temporarily shut off his Telepathy so he would no longer receive the scents leaking from this person. Just then, he saw Du Zhengyi's hand lift and grasp the hilt of the dagger protruding from Han Yi's back shoulder.

No.

Du Zhengyi's hand applied force, the dagger was pulled out abruptly, Han Yi's body twitched violently, and blood sprayed out.

Luo Qi stood there in shock, watching Du Zhengyi's every move in a daze. After Han Yi's body shook, he forcibly steadied himself; his throat let out a hoarse laugh again, and he roughly stanched his own bleeding, his hands covered in fresh blood.

Du Zhengyi looked at him coldly, indifferent to the blood and trauma before him. Reaching over Han Yi's shoulder, Du Zhengyi placed the dagger he had created squarely on the table in front of Han Yi; blood flowed down from the pitch-black metal, dirtying a piece of the tablecloth.

"The first time, the shoulder," Du Zhengyi said, lowering his eyes and extending two fingers to mockingly tap the top of Han Yi's head, his voice as soft as a whisper. "The second time, I will scramble your brain."

Han Yi laughed hysterically, "Good, very good, threatening an innocent..."

A very impolite, impatient sound came from Du Zhengyi's mouth; Han Yi subconsciously held his breath, then reacted, his face full of annoyance.

"Luo Qi." Du Zhengyi finally lifted his gaze, his cold eyes turning toward him.

Luo Qi had witnessed a side of Du Zhengyi he had never seen before and was still immersed in shock; it was only when he truly saw Du Zhengyi's eyes that he suddenly woke up, tucked the cat under his arm, and walked around the table toward Du Zhengyi.

The gaze Du Zhengyi fixed on him carried a biting anger; Luo Qi's breathing slowed, and he moved gingerly, as if he were a mass of extremely non-flammable, inert matter—no matter how fierce the raging fire, it would never ignite him.

At this critical moment of life and death, Luo Qi still couldn't help but sneak a glance at the Storage Crystal cast aside, harboring some vague calculations in his heart, unwilling to leave just like that.

"Luo Qi!" Du Zhengyi growled in warning, reaching out to grab him.

"Ah ah ah ah I know, I know." Luo Qi fiercely turned his head away, bypassed Du Zhengyi's hand that was reaching for him, and slipped behind Du Zhengyi so he couldn't continue glaring at him as he wished.

(End of chapter)