Chapter 133: Awakening, A Heart-Piercing Agony

Ye Qinglan instinctively gripped the exceptionally sharp short blade in her hand, her entire body tensed and ready for action. This was her habitual reaction whenever she sensed danger.

However, after a brief jolt of panic, she calmed down immediately. No, that couldn't be right. If He Liancheng had awakened, he would surely have seized her by the throat to interrogate her identity; he would never be holding her and begging her not to leave.

She struggled to lift her head, fighting desperately to break free from his embrace. Yet, at that very moment, as if craving her body heat, He Liancheng unconsciously lowered his head and tightened his arms.

In doing so, He Liancheng’s thin lips brushed exactly against Ye Qinglan’s forehead. By some cruel stroke of fate, although Ye Qinglan was wearing a black face mask, her forehead remained exposed. Perhaps the sensation on his lips felt too wonderful to the dreaming He Liancheng, for he naturally rubbed his face against her forehead a few times, letting out a soft sigh of contentment from the depths of his throat.

Ye Qinglan felt a "boom" in her mind. While the warm, moist touch on her forehead diminished some of the earlier pain, it also triggered a more devastating reaction: a surge of blood to her head and a fluttering in her heart. Having never experienced such intimacy with a man, she found herself feeling a sense of panic and agitation she had never known before while held in He Liancheng’s unconscious embrace.

She did not know what was happening to her. Even when facing the most vicious criminals and the most elusive fugitives, she had never felt such a racing heart or such disarray.

In her fluster, she found a burst of strength from nowhere and broke free from He Liancheng’s embrace in a few swift motions. Once on her feet, she dared not look directly at his handsome face. She cast only a hurried glance at his still-sleeping features before her slender figure flickered. In the blink of an eye, she vaulted out of the window, moving with such velocity that it looked more like a panicked flight.

In the ink-black night, she leaped onto a high wall, glanced back at the dim, yellow light filtering from the window of the east wing, and then jumped away. Her figure, light as a swallow, navigated silently through the high walls and dark tiles of the He estate. Before long, she landed steadily at the street corner outside the gates, the rendezvous point she had agreed upon with her companions.

Seeing Ye Qinglan arrive safely, Shen Qianmo’s face lit up with joy as she and Baili Xiao stepped forward together. For some reason, she felt an intuitive fondness for this woman, who was sparing with her words but swift and efficient in her actions.

The disciples of the Mo Sect were scattered across the world. Some did not openly identify as members of the sect, instead holding their own professions. They possessed a unique system of communication, activated only when a crisis required collective action, prompting them to converge on a pre-arranged location from all directions.

From Baili Xiao, she had learned that since Meng Tianxu ascended to the throne, the Shadow Sect’s influence in the martial arts world had grown significantly. They had been ruthlessly suppressing Mo Sect members, showing a clear intent to replace the Mo Sect as the premier organization in the world. Consequently, these days had been difficult for the Mo disciples.

Although Mo Qingshan had been exiled to the desolate city, he remained well-informed about the current state of the world, which was why he had summoned this group of disciples to rescue Shen Qianmo. They needed the Mo Order to rally the sect members across the world to resist the Shadow Sect’s oppression.

The professions of the Mo disciples were diverse: assassins, scholars, merchants—mostly occupations that allowed for freedom and leisure. Baili Xiao, for instance, was a wandering physician, while Ye Qinglan was a bounty hunter.

Bounty hunters often faced the most vicious of outlaws. Although Ye Qinglan was masked, and Shen Qianmo had not yet seen her face, she could tell from Baili Xiao’s description that she was likely quite beautiful. She found it hard to imagine how a young, beautiful woman like Ye Qinglan had chosen such a perilous profession.

"Miss Ye."
"Senior Sister Qinglan."

Ye Qinglan merely nodded at them, saying nothing, but her meaning was clear: everything on her side had gone smoothly.

This was no place to linger. The group of more than ten people departed without rest. Their dark figures moved further and further away from the high walls and courtyards of the He estate, eventually disappearing into the boundless night of Dading City.

Only a few fragments of conversation drifted back on the biting north wind:
"Senior Sister Qinglan, why were you so slow coming out? Did you encounter any emergencies?"
"No." A firm, definitive denial.
"Senior Sister Qinglan, your forehead looks very red. Are you hot?"
"Senior Sister Qinglan, are you injured? Why is there a scent of blood on you?"
"Senior Sister Qinglan..."
"..."
"Shut up!" A cold, decisive rebuke.

Then, all these faint, intermittent sounds drifted away with the wind, fading into nothingness. The night was vast, the world was expansive, and everything returned to tranquility, leaving only the sound of the whistling wind echoing for a long time.

He Liancheng awoke from the stillness.

Slowly opening his eyes, his typically sharp and assertive gaze was momentarily vacant, as if he did not know where he was. He moved to rise instinctively, and a sharp, stinging pain suddenly pierced his chest.

The sudden pain tightened his heart, yet it also brought his consciousness into sharper focus. He felt as if the warmth of her touch and a faint, lingering fragrance still clung to his hands, yet the stinging pain in his chest ruthlessly shattered the last remnants of his wandering thoughts.

He recalled that before he lost consciousness, she had told him, expressionless, that she hoped this hairpin prick would help him wake up. He laughed at himself. Indeed, he was awake now. He realized with painful clarity that this woman felt absolutely nothing for him.

He inspected the wound on his chest. The blood had already congealed; clearly, the puncture was not deep. Compared to the wounds he had sustained while training at Mount Tian or fighting on the battlefield, this was negligible—hardly worth mentioning. Yet, even though it had only shallowly pierced his skin, he felt as if his heart were being stabbed by an awl.

He swept his gaze across the room. The vast space was empty, and he was the only lonely figure, appearing isolated and cold in the dim glow of the oil lamp. Where was that woman? Had she truly escaped? But the He estate was heavily guarded, and she was pregnant; how could she possibly have gotten out?

He quickly rose and pushed open the door, only to be stunned by the sight before him. Dozens of guards from the Ting Song Garden were lying on the ground. Every one of them had been killed with a single strike—clean, efficient, and with barely a drop of blood spilled. It was clearly the work of a professional.

After a thorough inspection, He Liancheng’s handsome, arched brows knit together. "Guards!" his sharp shout echoed through the silent, ink-black night across the entire He estate.

The He estate was destined to lose its usual tranquility this night. Shen Qianmo, who had been bound and unable to move in the Ting Song Garden, was gone. Baili Xiao, who had been imprisoned in the pitch-black dungeon, was also missing. More terrifyingly, dozens of guards in the garden had been inexplicably had their throats slit, dying without a sound.

Furthermore, although He Liancheng had promptly changed his blood-stained shirt, sharp-eyed guards noticed that even their peerless, valiant General was injured. Who on earth could be so bold and possess such capability?

Two hours remained until dawn, yet everyone in the He estate was at their posts, on high alert. More than three hundred servants and guards searched every inch of the estate, inside and out. Yet, Shen Qianmo and Baili Xiao had vanished without a trace.

Standing by the window in the east wing, He Liancheng fingered a small, exquisite flying fish dart. He frowned in deep thought. He had found it on the bed earlier. He remembered that this style of flying fish dart was the typical hidden weapon used by Shadow Sect assassins.

Could Shen Qianmo have been abducted by the Shadow Sect? But why would the Shadow Sect also take Baili Xiao from the dungeon? And what was Mo Hanshan's purpose in abducting this woman? He had always known Mo Hanshan to be sinister, vicious, and two-faced. If used correctly, he could be a useful pawn, but the man was ambitious and would never be content as a tool to be manipulated. When he had first sought an alliance, he must have had his own agenda. What exactly was Mo Hanshan plotting?

And that woman... was she safe now?

He laughed at himself again, his smile filled with bitterness. She was so heartless toward him—no, she had no feelings for him at all. And yet, here he was, worrying about her safety. How ironic.

He looked down at the desk. During these past few days, she had sat right here, reading books and preparing medicine. He picked up a few volumes from the table, but his attention was drawn to a few thin, narrow strips of paper hidden beneath them. He had seen the strange symbols on these strips in a notebook she had doodled in. But why would she draw these symbols on such tiny scraps of paper?

A thought struck him. As if realizing something, he picked up the small porcelain vial from the table and poured all the pills out. He picked one up and exerted pressure with his fingers, breaking it apart. As he looked closely, he sneered, his heart sinking into despair.

He knew it. She would never sit idly by and wait for death. It seemed that every moment she spent in the He estate, she had been plotting her escape. It was truly clever of her to use "homing birds" to relay messages. These strange symbols must be the secret code between her and Meng Yuanheng.

The secret code between a husband and wife was naturally incomprehensible to outsiders. That was right—she and Meng Yuanheng were the true couple, while he was merely an outsider, even their enemy...

When the Old Madam of the He family hurried to the Ting Song Garden, she found her son standing blankly by the window of the east wing, staring intently at the scraps of paper in his hand, looking like a man lost in memories of a loved one.

Consumed with fury, she strode forward. Before He Liancheng could even offer a greeting, she slapped him hard across his handsome, noble face.

"Liancheng, you have disappointed me too much!"