Wandering Swordsman |

The woman was taken aback, then sighed and said, "Fortunately, nothing serious happened, and you killed that person. If you hadn't killed him, I would have asked my father to kill him too."

After speaking, the woman moved closer to Shen Mo's face, examining him closely. She noticed that aside from his somewhat shabby clothes, the young man's face, though not perfectly clean, was quite handsome. Unexpectedly, the woman gently kissed Shen Mo's cheek, then whispered in his ear, "But you're different. You saved me, and I can forgive you, but you must take responsibility for me!"

The moment Shen Mo was kissed, time seemed to freeze, and all the sounds around him became distant and indistinct. His eyes held a hint of confusion and bewilderment; clearly, what had just happened was completely beyond his expectations. The women's soft whispers went unheard, utterly ignoring him.

When Shen Mo finally came to his senses, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his chaotic mind. "Miss, I understand how you feel," he said slowly, his voice gentle yet firm, "but I truly meant no offense. The situation was urgent; I simply wanted to release your pressure points as quickly as possible, and I had no other intentions. How about this, release my pressure points first, and then we can discuss things in detail."

The woman paused slightly, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes, clearly not expecting Shen Mo to respond so frankly. Her brows relaxed slightly, but her wary gaze remained fixed on Shen Mo, as if assessing the truthfulness of his words. A silence fell over the room, broken only by the occasional chirping of insects in the distance, like a natural note adding to the tense atmosphere.

"Moreover," Shen Mo continued, his tone becoming more sincere, "if I hadn't arrived in time, you would probably be in an even more dangerous situation now. Those men in black... they would never have shown you any mercy."

The woman remained silent for a moment, her gaze shifting uncertainly over Shen Mo as she pondered his words. Finally, she nodded, agreeing with Shen Mo's statement: "You're right, you did save me. But that doesn't mean I can forgive you for offending me. I can release your pressure points first, but you'd better not run away, otherwise, even if you go to the ends of the earth, I'll have my father bring you back."

Shen Mo nodded in understanding, his eyes revealing sincerity and gratitude. Following the woman's gesture, a warm current flowed from his fingertips, and Shen Mo felt his pressure points gradually loosen. Because of the mirror image, he had been prepared beforehand, so once the pressure points were released, he pretended to have been frozen for a long time and immediately stretched his limbs.

"Young lady, I actually have important matters to attend to and cannot stay here any longer. Moreover, I am already poisoned and cannot jeopardize your future," Shen Mo explained, straightening his clothes. "Besides, I am not some 'Jinzhou Wanderer.' My true identity is merely a beggar. How could I possibly be worthy of you, young lady?"

Upon hearing this, the woman became indignant. Her cheeks flushed, her lips parted slightly, and her voice was filled with obvious displeasure: "Hmph! Am I that ugly? Are you trying to come up with a bunch of excuses to renege on your promise?"

Shen Mo quickly shook his head, raising his hands slightly to show his innocence: "Miss, everything I said is the truth. There is not a single falsehood."

Upon hearing Shen Mo's claim of being poisoned and his mention of being a beggar, the woman pondered for a moment before finally nodding gently, "Alright, I'll believe you for now." Her voice was soft yet firm, as if every word had been carefully considered.

Hearing this, Shen Mo visibly relaxed, the tension on his shoulders dissipating. He then looked at the woman with a serious expression and asked, "Miss, who are these men in black? Why did they raid the mansion at night?"

The woman shook her head, her long hair swaying gently, a few strands falling beside her cheeks, highlighting her slightly pale complexion. Her eyes were filled with confusion and unease as she whispered, "I don't know why..." Her voice trailed off, as if she were lost in her memories.

Suddenly, she looked up, a flicker of fear in her eyes: "Only my third brother knows where I am..."

Shen Mo frowned, his hand unconsciously tightening its grip on the hilt of his sword at his waist. Hearing the words "Third Brother," a thought sank into Shen Mo's mind: Could it be fratricide?

As Shen Mo thought of this, suddenly, the woman seemed to remember something. A look of fear flashed in her eyes, and she turned and rushed towards the door, her voice echoing in the empty corridor: "Xiaoyue, Xiaoyue, where are you? Xiaoyue, Xiaoyue..."

Her hurried steps stirred a gentle breeze, causing her skirt to flutter like a startled butterfly. Seeing this, Shen Mo followed without hesitation, his figure standing out resolutely in the dimly lit corridor. As he ran, he kept a watchful eye on his surroundings, ready to deal with any potential dangers.

The scene inside the mansion was chilling. Several corpses lay scattered on the ground, stained with blood, a sight too gruesome to behold. Each time she encountered a female corpse, the woman would stop, her trembling hands gently turning the body's face, her eyes filled with fear and anxiety. Her lips trembled slightly, and with each confirmation that it wasn't the person she was looking for, the disappointment and worry in her eyes deepened.

"Xiaoyue, you have to be alright," the woman prayed softly, her voice almost drowned out by her sobs. Her gaze swept anxiously across every corner, not missing any possible hiding place. Shen Mo stood silently guarding her from the side, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword, his vigilant eyes constantly scanning the surroundings to prevent any unforeseen events.

When they had searched the entire mansion but still couldn't find Xiaoyue, the woman finally stopped, her eyes filled with endless disappointment and helplessness. She slowly turned around to face Shen Mo, her hands quietly clutching his sleeve, tears welling in her eyes, her voice weak and feeble: "She's not here... I don't know where she went."

While gently comforting her, Shen Mo asked softly, "Miss, who is Xiaoyue you are looking for?" His voice was gentle and concerned, trying to offer some solace to the woman who was clearly on the verge of collapse.

The woman wept as if she had lost her soul, saying, "Xiaoyue is my personal maid... Although she's a maid,... our bond is stronger than sisters." Her words were broken, accompanied by sobs, and tears streamed down her face. Memories flooded back like a tide, recalling the times she had spent with Xiaoyue—the laughter they shared, the tears they shed, the secrets they shared.