Xie Wuyang’s entire body stiffened. He remained motionless without turning back or making a sound.
The girl’s breaths echoed in his ears, tinged with faint panting. Her warm exhales brushed past his cheeks, lifting a few strands of hair to tickle him.
They were pressed close together, one in front and one behind. Xie Wuyang sat upright while Jiang Kui leaned over him from behind, one hand reaching around to grip his chin tightly, forcing his face towards her. The seemingly intimate posture exuded an oppressive, murderous aura.
Her damp long hair draped over his robes, soaking a deep red patch.
Jiang Kui’s slender fingers glided from his lips down his neck. With a light tug, she lifted his face and pulled him to his feet.
Xie Wuyang did not speak or resist, allowing her to maneuver him like a puppet.
Jiang Kui also remained silent. Clutching him, she quickly backed up until hitting the cabin door. Noiselessly she shut it behind them. Without releasing Xie Wuyang, her other hand swung the saber, slicing the porcelain lamp hanging above.
The cabin was plunged into darkness. Their breaths echoed softly in each other’s ears. As Jiang Kui’s eyes adjusted, she noticed a teapot had toppled on the writing desk, spilling tea in the faint starlight from the window slats. Beside the puddle sat a half-filled teacup, reflecting shards of light.
Jiang Kui blinked.
Xie Wuyang had been…drinking tea here? Alone in the middle of the night…?
“Just what were you…” She began to ask in a lowered voice.
But a surge of heat cut her question short, more intense than before. His presence made it even harder to restrain herself. A flame raged unrelentingly in her chest, scorching her mind.
Unable to withstand it, she let out a low groan and roughly shoved Xie Wuyang to the floor. Grabbing his collar, she flipped him over and pressed her flushed face close, gently breathing into his ear.
Xie Wuyang remained frozen.
Jiang Kui leaned down, pinning him beneath her. Nearly nose to nose, chaotic colors swam before her eyes. She smelled a deep sandalwood fragrance from his robes, further unraveling her restraint.
She dipped her head uncontrollably towards his throat. Her loose hair draped down as starlight illuminated her bright, alluring face. Crimson tinged her starry eyes – she resembled a seductive water ghost come to steal men’s souls.
Xie Wuyang stirred slightly.
It was unclear what he intended by that subtle motion. He seemed to tilt his head just so.
Jiang Kui was jolted to her senses.
Clenching her saber hilt, she bit her lip and slashed at her own arm!
The whistling blade brought a chill. Wounding herself was the only way to maintain clarity given the circumstances.
But a hand stopped her mid-swing.
Blinking, Jiang Kui could barely see straight anymore.
The hand – cool, slender, over her sleeve – gently pressed her wrist, silently taking away the long saber. She reflexively let it guide her like a confused child.
The chill seeped through the soft silk. He was unusually cold, perfectly neutralizing her heat. Still clasping her wrist, he slowly laid her flat, movements gentle as if comforting her.
The icy floor soothed her raging fever. As her breathing calmed, she tried to speak but he raised a finger to her lips, whispering “Hush.”
Jiang Kui froze.
It was only the third time hearing Xie Wuyang’s voice – the first two drowned by water at their riverbend meeting and her near-drowning at the palace.
Now it rang clear as day.
His voice reminded her of white porcelain or rain-drenched jade – crisp, clean, and pure.
It made her inexplicably think of Master Pu Liu, though the two men were nothing alike in personality or conduct. Yet she couldn’t help but compare them, as if an unseen thread connected them.
“We have company,” Xie Wuyang then said.
Muffled splashes mixed with the lapping waves outside.
The drug was wearing off but Jiang Kui’s vision remained hazy. From the sounds, she could tell the three masked assassins had returned, surrounding the little boat.
Unsure of the situation within, the killers didn’t dare enter, while the pair inside didn’t dare leave.
In a flash, an arrow burst through the hull and struck down!
Did one of the three wield a bow?
Or was there a fourth assailant?
Jiang Kui had no time to think. Drawing her saber, she sliced the arrow clean in two!
Then more arrows rained down – nearly a small battalion of archers!
Like a meteor shower, the arrowheads glinted cold and bright. Wielding her saber, Jiang Kui leapt about the cabin, blocking the volley with Xie Wuyang in tow. For long moments, the cacophonous clatter of falling shafts filled the air as the little boat bristled into a pincushion.
But Jiang Kui soon felt her strength flagging. Splitting her inner energy between combating both assassins and mysterious drug, her saber work and footing grew unsteady, vision blurring as her breaths turned heavy.
Xie Wuyang’s cool hand softly grasped her wrist once more over her sleeve, making her shudder slightly at his icy touch.
Sensing the tremble, his hand retreated somewhat.
The chill helped calm Jiang Kui again. Staying trapped inside would surely end in their becoming target practice. A plan formed in her mind.
Whirling around, she seized Xie Wuyang and leapt out of the boat in one fluid motion!
With a flip of her saber now at his throat, she stood atop the canopy with the prince in her clutch, frost glinting murderously along the blade.
“Come no further!” she called coldly. “Or I kill him.”
…Xie Wuyang froze.
The masked killers also froze, faces flashing uncertainty, archers lowering their bows with questioning looks toward their leader – the man with the iron whip, who tightened his grip upon recognizing the royal robes.
Their employer had only asked them to assassinate the young swordsman Jiang Kui, with no order to kill the crown prince.
Would he dare risk the prince’s death?
Jiang Kui gambled these martial world rogues would not dare harm true imperial royalty, least of all Crown Prince Xie Kang. To drive the point home, her saber edged closer, ready to slice his throat with just a flick of the wrist.
Yet Xie Wuyang remained utterly still, even lightly clasping the wrist of the hand not wielding the weapon. Cloaked in darkness with billowing sleeves, the killers did not notice this subtle gesture beneath the sword at his neck.
Clenching his fist, the lead assassin was about to respond when a shrill whistle sounded in the distance.
“Fall back!” he barked.
Like the receding tide, the masked men swiftly melted away, leaving behind a battered boat bristling with arrows.
Strength spent, Jiang Kui went limp against Xie Wuyang, feverish heat once more crashing over her. Desperately clinging upright, her breaths grew ragged and uncontrolled.
Wrenching her hand from his gentle clasp, she uncontrollably grasped at his collar.
But she stopped herself short.
She could not give in to the drug’s control.
With snarling determination, Jiang Kui slammed the saber hilt into her own temple!
The soft girl collapsed unconscious into Xie Wuyang’s arms, complexion flushed, breathing hurried. Starlight pooled on her crimson cheeks, blurred liked shimmering petals in peach blossoms.
Unsure what to do, Xie Wuyang awkwardly held her amidst the carpet of broken arrows.
…Now he was truly frozen stiff.
Beneath the vast and hazy Milky Way, he gathered up the wisp of a girl and stepped gingerly off the battered boat.
The gusting river wind stirred their hair. Cradling her carefully, he settled onto the deck of the other boat, propping up her head as gently as he would a small child.
He tried laying her flat, but in sleep she threw her arms around him in sudden embrace.
After a long silence, eyes closed, he let out a helpless sigh.
“Luo eleven!” he then called out irritably. “Are you back yet or not?”
A canopy boat emerged slowly from the darkness, poled by a black-clad youth.
The two vessels bumped together with a slap. Letting his pole down, the boy bowed to Xie Wuyang, reporting: “Your Highness, the two ambush teams have been dealt with. Those who escaped, my men are in pursuit.”
“Then what is all this?” Xie Wuyang rapped a broken arrow lightly, vexed.
“Those would be…the ones that slipped through.” Luo Eleven kept his eyes down. “We did not detect the third group of killers.”
“The Old Whitehead,” Xie Wuyang said icily. “I have underestimated him. Daring to make a move on someone I hold dear – he will never step foot in the martial world again.”
Scooping up the unconscious girl, he boarded Luo Eleven’s boat and eased her onto a mat as they pushed off toward shore. The lamps brightened along the bank as Luo carefully steered them to harbor.
“Your Highness, I shall absent myself for the moment,” he then muttered before ducking under the canopy.
Raising his eyes, Xie Wuyang saw a broad-robed military man awaiting them ashore, his great cape rippling in the wind – General Jiang Cheng, Jiang Kui’s father.
Xie Wuyang rather wished he was the one passed out instead.
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