Chapter 64: Chapter Twenty‑Five: Wangjing Relay Station (Part II)

Murong Feiyan was obviously far more pure-hearted than he was; she said softly, "It's something you could never discover in this lifetime." She kept finding herself bickering with Hu Xiaotian without realizing it—a path that for her often led nowhere, as repeated experience proved she could never gain the upper hand.

"If you just look patiently, you'll always find my strengths!" Hu Xiaotian discovered that saying some evil words to a guileless girl was also a peculiar pleasure. No matter what evil thoughts he harbored, Murong Feiyan found it hard to agree with him ideologically: "I haven't found your strengths!" And while saying that, she even glanced at his lower body.

Hu Xiaotian felt a bit depressed; "I'm wearing pants, of course you can't see," he thought, but he quickly realized that Murong Feiyan's so-called strengths weren't the evil traits he imagined. So he also straightened his legs like she did—and, well, judging by leg length alone, they were about the same. It's unscientific: I'm seven or eight centimeters taller than her, yet our proportions are clearly different; I'm all torso.

He gazed at Murong Feiyan's long legs; even through her robe he could see some graceful contours, and he said matter-of-factly, "Your legs are really long!"

Murong Feiyan's cheeks flushed; "He's utterly shameless, saying anything," she thought, quickly pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees, she glared fiercely at Hu Xiaotian: "You don't believe I'll hit you?"

"I believe it! But I think you'll regret it."

Murong Feiyan sneered, "Worst case, I quit and go back to the capital as a commoner!"

Hu Xiaotian said, "You don't believe I'll charge this to your good friend Tang Qingxuan?"

Murong Feiyan's phoenix eyes widened as she demanded, "What business is it of yours?" In her view, his thoughts were utterly far-fetched—how could he randomly connect Tang Qingxuan? What does their feud have to do with Tang Qingxuan?

"If one wants to accuse, there's never a lack of excuses—I can't beat you, but I certainly can't swallow this anger, so I'll only be able to take revenge on your friends; I'll claim you colluded, plotting to harm court officials, and even pin tonight's bandit raid on you. Even if you escape blame, your friends will suffer—hehe, what do you think?"

Murong Feiyan really had to admire this brat—he could come up with such shameless ideas. It seems dealing with his kind can't be measured by rules or integrity. Even now she couldn't tell whether Hu Xiaotian was good or bad: if you called him good, he'd done so many bad things, acting without scruple or principle; if you called him bad, he'd helped many people, including herself. Gazing at Hu Xiaotian beside her, she felt genuinely perplexed and said softly, "I heard you were a mute idiot before sixteen, unable to speak—is that true or false?" She changed the subject, clearly just changing the subject.

Hu Xiaotian said, "This is my personal **, I don't need to tell you."

"Tch, who cares?" After saying that, Murong Feiyan's eyes suddenly narrowed; she saw a black shadow flit across the eaves, merely a brief flash, yet it didn't escape her gaze. She drew a short dagger from her waist, fixed on the shadow on the eaves, swung her arm, and a blade of icy cold light shot like chasing wind and lightning toward the shadow's back.

The black-clad figure on the eaves didn't even glance at the flying dagger coming from behind; when the dagger was about three feet from his body, he extended his left hand backward, lightly flicked his index and middle fingers together, and with a soft 'xiu!' the dagger shot straight toward Hu Xiaotian's chest.

Hu Xiaotian sat on the ground with his legs straight, still not recovered from his verbal sparring with Murong Feiyan, and of course he hadn't noticed the black shadow on the roof. When Murong Feiyan threw the dagger, he only then realized someone might be on the roof; looking up, he saw the dagger flying backward toward his chest. Hu Xiaotian was terrified out of his wits, thinking, "What the hell, it's not like I shot you—grievances have a source, debts have a debtor—why are you shooting me with a dagger?"

The dagger's returning speed far exceeded that of Murong Feiyan's initial throw; she had wanted to catch it with her hand, but hearing the dagger's piercing whistle as it tore through the air, her face paled—opponent's strength and speed far surpassed hers, she had no chance to catch it. In desperation she flung herself forward, knocking Hu Xiaotian to the ground; the dagger skimmed her back, tearing her robe with a hiss, the night wind lifted the torn fabric, exposing her crystal-clear, jade-like back.

Murong Feiyan instinctively hugged Hu Xiaotian tight; Hu Xiaotian had just been flung to the ground by her, but the landing spot wasn't flat, his body jolted painfully on the stone steps, his waist nearly broken; though his back ached terribly, his front was pressed firmly against Murong Feiyan's soft, delicate body. His first reaction was to wrap both arms around her slender waist and squeeze, the feeling of embracing warm jade and fragrant scent was quite nice—not to mention, her body was truly elastic. Her smooth, supple back felt like warm jade, the touch was intoxicating. Hu Xiaotian's mindset could be described as exceptionally strong; at such a moment he didn't worry about his own safety, his thoughts were all about amorous romance—in other words, he couldn't resist taking advantage. His right hand, intentionally or not, landed on her pert buttocks, firm and elastic, giving him the urge to squeeze hard.

But impulse aside, Hu Xiaotian still didn't dare—Murong Feiyan's fists and sharp sword weren't for show. If this lass thought he was taking advantage of the chaos, she'd surely tear into him. So Hu Xiaotian merely took the opportunity to put an arm around her, gave a light grope, and then, not forgetting to act innocent after gaining an advantage, said, "You're crushing me, hurry up and get up…"

His waist did hurt a bit, but compared to the ** sensation of their bodies pressed together, this pain was negligible. The dagger grazed Murong Feiyan's back, then skimmed the ground and flew toward a nearby pillar, embedding itself deeply into it.

The black shadow on the roof paused, then slowly turned; its cold eyes glowed with bone‑chilling light, piercing the deep night and fixing on Hu Xiaotian's face. Hu Xiaotian and the black‑clad figure locked gazes—this dagger certainly wasn't his throw, but with Murong Feiyan lying on him, face down, no one could see her face, only his. Hu Xiaotian silently cursed his bad luck, thinking, "Great, now I've inexplicably taken the blame for a black pot again?"

The black‑clad figure nodded; Hu Xiaotian understood—clearly saying, "Nice kid, I've remembered you." Fortunately the figure didn't swoop down to settle scores; tapping the eaves with his toes, he vanished into the night in a flash, like a rabbit's hop.

Murong Feiyan climbed off Hu Xiaotian; he thought she was going to chase, so he hastily grabbed her wrist and whispered, "Don't pursue a desperate foe!" She had no intention of giving chase—the opponent had merely flicked the dagger back with two fingers, a terrifying display whose power was several times hers, his martial arts unfathomable; even if she pursued, she'd only be walking to her death.

At that moment, loud shouts came from the neighboring courtyard: "…Flying thief… there's a flying thief…"

Hu Xiaotian and Murong Feiyan exchanged a glance, both thinking, "Uh‑oh." Hu Xiaotian pulled Murong Feiyan toward the rooms, his first thought being "better to do less than more." Murong Feiyan agreed; after two steps she recalled something, turned back to the pillar, yanked out the dagger embedded in it— the blade had gone in up to the hilt, showing the black‑clad man's formidable strength.

After they entered the room, Murong Feiyan finally realized this guy had actually sneaked into her chamber; her beautiful eyes widened, she glared at Hu Xiaotian and snapped, "Get out!"

Hu Xiaotian laughed a little embarrassedly; he actually hadn't meant to come in, yet somehow he'd stumbled in absentmindedly, nodding and saying, "All right, I'm leaving!" Just as he turned, he didn't expect Murong Feiyan to grab him, then swiftly palm‑strike—of course not at him, but at the oil lamp on the table. Though about a zhang away, her palm strike sent a swift gust that instantly snuffed the candle—this was the Void Palm. Her internal energy transmission through space showed considerable cultivation.

Hu Xiaotian's heart gave a start; he wondered what Murong Feiyan was up to—could it be that the icy‑exterior girl actually burned with passion inside? Haha, if I'd known I should have taken a nap earlier to conserve energy. Her physique is so robust, I wonder if I can keep up. His mind wandered, and he adopted a soft tone: "Feiyan…"

To Murong Feiyan's ears, that voice really begged for a slap, but she wasn't in the mood to beat him up; she clapped a hand over his mouth. Hu Xiaotian blinked—too forward, was he trying to force himself on her? He felt a flicker of excitement and anticipation. He tried to push her hand away, but she pressed her elbow against his chest, leaned in closer, and lowered her voice: "Someone's coming!"

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