Chapter 936: Shameless

Jing Liu...

Sai Fei Er said, "Speaking of which, I just remembered that earlier, while I was listening to a reading in the teahouse, I think I left my wallet on the seat. You know I'm forgetful, and even though I'm back now I can't change that old habit. So, wait here for a moment; I'll run back to get the wallet and be back quickly—"

She spoke while naturally pulling her hand back, and at the same time her body began to shift toward the side‑street entrance, her left foot already stepping half a pace forward.

Under normal circumstances, this combination of movements would be enough to break free from anyone's grasp.

But Jing Liu's hand did not move; she kept the light grip, her five fingers loosely covering Sai Fei Er's back of the hand, with no change in pressure.

Yet Sai Fei Er's hand could not be pulled out, as if frozen inside an invisible layer of ice.

Sai Fei Er lowered her head to glance at her hand being held; her fingertips turned slightly pale between Jing Liu's fingers.

So cold!

Colder than before!

That cold seeped from Jing Liu's fingertips into her skin, making her wrist go numb and the temperature of her fingers drain rapidly.

She felt her own heartbeat quickening, but she could not sense Jing Liu's heartbeat.

Sai Fei Er tried again.

Her hand remained immobile, trapped in Jing Liu's palm, half a degree colder than before.

Sai Fei Er gave up.

She pulled back the half‑step she had taken, stood again beside Jing Liu, and quickly reassessed the situation in her mind.

Jing Liu's condition is off!

Very off!

And at that moment, Jing Liu suddenly halted.

They were now standing at the end of the side street, facing a blue‑brick wall overgrown with dead vines.

A layer of dust had settled on the wooden crate in the corner of the wall.

The streetlamp flickered on and off, stretching and compressing the two shadows on the wall like frames of a silent film alternating.

Jing Liu turned around, facing Sai Fei Er.

On the black Eye Mask, the silver crescent pattern flickered in the wavering light; she lifted her other hand, gently sweeping aside the stray strands of night‑blown hair across Sai Fei Er's forehead. The motion was as tender as handling a precious item recovered after loss; her fingers slid from the corner of the forehead to the ear, then along behind the ear down to the shoulder, smoothing the fluffy white fur collar around Sai Fei Er's shoulders.

She remained silent the whole time.

A faint curve lingered at the corner of her mouth.

Sai Fei Er froze in place.

In her eyes reflected Jing Liu's approaching face and that crescent pattern.

The air was filled with the frosty, snowy aura emanating from Jing Liu—cold and clean.

She heard her own heart pounding wildly in her chest, beating so fast it seemed ready to burst out of her throat.

Sai Fei Er felt that if she didn't run now, she would never get away!

"Um—Jing Liu!"

"I just remembered there's something else—no, two things—three things! Miss Xi Tong still owes me a meal; she promised to treat me tonight, and if I don't go soon she'll start to dodge the bill— you know how slick that guy is—"

She said while stepping back.

This time she didn't try to slowly pull her hand free; instead she twisted sideways, flipped the held hand upward with a reverse‑joint angle, forcing it open, and simultaneously launched her whole body toward the side‑street exit.

When she landed, her fox tail swept out a graceful arc; her toes tapped the stone slab twice, and she had already retreated more than three meters away.

Jing Liu stayed where she was, not giving chase, only tilting her head slightly toward the direction Sai Fei Er fled.

Her hand remained in the gripping posture, suspended in mid‑air, fingers loosely curled, the palm still holding the residual warmth that was rapidly fading.

Night wind poured in from the alley's end, lifting her white long hair and the strap of the black Eye Mask, which fluttered behind her head like two parallel black threads.

Sai Fei Er retreated to the junction of the side street and the main street; the streetlamp's light shone from behind, casting a long shadow before her.

She stood there watching Jing Liu deep in the alley, her chest heaving, each breath condensing into small puffs of white mist in the cold air.

She waited for Jing Liu's response—whether to draw a sword, to chase, or to speak—any reaction would do.

But Jing Liu did nothing.

She simply stood there, letting the hand suspended in the air slowly lower, hanging at her side.

Her white hair covered half of her face.

The black Eye Mask covered the other half.

No expression could be seen, yet Sai Fei Er could feel the other's gaze—through the mask, across half an alley—still a cold stare landing on her, like a weightless blade sharpened to the extreme, silently pressing against her throat.

This is a Warning.

It is also a farewell.

Jing Liu stood motionless, silencing the whole scene, like a statue erected in the center of an abandoned stage; all the spotlights had gone out, yet she still held a curtain‑call pose.

Sai Fei Er's fox tail behind her gradually shifted from a frizzed state to a half‑frizzed state.

Her intuition told her Jing Liu would not chase.

But another, deeper intuition warned her: Jing Liu isn't incapable of pursuing; she just hasn't made up her mind yet.

Once that resolve is made, the chase becomes only a matter of time.

She stared at the motionless white figure deep in the alley, mentally rating her earlier decision—a decisive retreat, flawless execution!

Stay behind to accompany a Sword Leader who is wildly probing the edge of a demonic shadow while strolling?

When she saw the other hand adjusting her fur collar, only one thought crossed her mind:

This guy definitely has a serious problem; she fully believes the resurrection of Bai Hang, but the belief brings not joy, but a twisted emotion—treating the reunion as a ritual, the stroll as a farewell, seeing Bai Hang as something she is about to lose again, so she wants to say goodbye in advance.

"Who cares!"

Sai Fei Er tossed the question into her mind's trash heap, then turned sharply and sprinted away.

Just kidding! She's Sai Fei Er!

Having lived so many years, she relied on one iron rule: let others digest their own psychological problems; her own life is only one, and keeping it in her pocket is more important than anything!

Jing Liu—whether sad, wistful, gentle, or yandere—what does any of that have to do with her?

She came to execute a Task; the Task is to force Dan Heng into a Dragon Lord and then keep Jing Liu steady.

The first Task was already completed in the Scale Abyss Realm, the second Task was just completed while shopping; she even accompanied Jing Liu through an entire Changletian night market—still not enough to keep Jing Liu steady?

If she keeps being kept steady, she'll be steadied right into the intensive‑care unit!

And Jing Liu stood there, the wind blowing, lifting a few strands of hair hanging by her ear.

Her Eye Mask sat firmly over her face, covering the upward curve at the corner of her eyes and her wine‑red, cool‑toned gaze.

Watching that white figure weave through, it grew smaller and farther away.

"Give face, have no face........"

Jing Liu murmured those words, then turned, her jet‑black high‑heeled boots striking the ground with a crisp echo.

In the next instant, the depths of the alley were empty.