Chapter Four: Heart Palpitations

Yinyao supported Ji Xuanyu with one hand, swiftly flying across the eaves without so much as a pause. Yet confusion churned in her heart: Why had her mother suddenly instructed her to rescue someone from the Ji family? The two families had never been acquainted, had they? Judging by the scene just now, the Ji family must have provoked someone they never should have. By interfering, wouldn't she simply be inviting trouble for herself?

A fit of weak coughing came from her side. Yinyao glanced indifferently at Ji Xuanyu; though she said nothing, her pace slowed, a silent gesture of understanding.

Ji Xuanyu felt the decrease in speed and was warmed in his heart. Relying on sheer will, he forced his exhausted body upright, lifting his head stubbornly, determined to see clearly the face of his rescuer.

The bright moonlight spilled across her silver mask, casting a beautiful and dreamlike glow. Through the delicate features of the mask, he caught a glimpse of her snow-white skin. He gazed at her, somewhat dazed, momentarily forgetting his pain.

“I wonder, what do you look like beneath that mask?” The words slipped out before he realized, and only afterward did he become aware of his own boldness.

She was a martial artist; her keen hearing would surely catch his remark. At first, she was startled, then turned to look at the youth beside her, only to find him staring unblinkingly at her. Having grown up in the mountains with her mother, her heart suddenly pounded uncontrollably, nearly disrupting her breath.

He was handsome—those narrow, fox-like eyes could have charmed countless maidens, yet there was a trace of anger at the corners, evidence of the deep shadow left by the massacre of his family. Faint marks of blood lingered on his pale lips, likely bitten through in an effort to suppress his fury. His sculpted, flawless features momentarily distracted her.

Yet, at the same time, she heard his uneven breathing and sensed his weakness. A fleeting laugh of self-mockery flashed through her mind, and soon she was calm again, no longer swayed by his looks.

Wind seemed to spring beneath Yinyao’s feet as she sped up, careful, however, to keep her movements steady for the gravely wounded Ji Xuanyu. Passing over countless rooftops, they arrived at the foot of a mountain. Drawing a deep breath, Yinyao leapt to the summit, and the two of them found themselves in a hidden paradise.

The fresh air filled her lungs, bringing a sense of comfort. Beneath the night sky, the place was serene and mysterious. The gentle sound of water trickled by her ear; following the sound, she saw a small spring cascading down the cliff face into a pond below.

At the center of the pond, a woman in white with silver hair sat cross-legged upon a slab of black marble. She was utterly still, as if isolated from the world—her meditation severed all connection with her surroundings. Her eyes were closed, her mind free of distractions.

Yinyao gently laid the weak Ji Xuanyu on the grass by the pond, then, employing her lightness skill, made her way toward the silver-haired woman to deliver a report. But before she could speak, the woman opened her eyes and soared toward her, worry etched between her brows.

“Mother!” Yinyao approached and affectionately linked arms with her mother as they walked toward Ji Xuanyu together.

The silver-haired woman regarded Yinyao with relief—at least one had been saved; the rescue could be counted a success. Perhaps, in this way, she had repaid her debt to Brother Ji.

Ji Xuanyu struggled to keep his eyes open to see who was approaching, but suddenly his chest tightened, darkness closed in, and he fainted, the last image in his mind that of the two women hurrying to his side.

Seeing this, the two women rushed to him. The silver-haired woman knelt, lifting him up, while Yinyao crouched behind to lend support.

The silver-haired woman placed her right hand on Ji Xuanyu’s pulse. The worry on her brow slowly eased; fortunately, his internal injuries were not serious, though he bore many surface wounds and was utterly drained. His strength had been pushed past its limit.

She retrieved a small bottle from her robe, poured out a round red pill the size of a pearl, and fed it to him. Then she had Yinyao move aside, settled cross-legged behind Ji Xuanyu, and began to channel energy into him for healing. Yinyao, meanwhile, quietly meditated on the side.

No one knew how much time passed before the silver-haired woman softly called, “Yao’er.” Yinyao opened her eyes, calmed her breathing, and immediately went to support her mother, helping her to rest. The silver-haired woman instructed her to bring Ji Xuanyu to her room for the time being, so he could recover.

Yinyao tucked him in carefully and kept watch by his side.

“Yao’er,” came a gentle call. From her seat at the table, Yinyao reflexively answered, then approached the bedside, only to find the young man murmuring her nickname in his sleep.

In his cloudy consciousness, Ji Xuanyu caught the words “Yao’er” and guessed that the girl who had rescued him must be named Yao’er. He had wanted to thank her, but exhaustion overcame him, and he drifted into unconsciousness, never expecting that he would call her name even in his sleep.

Yinyao removed her silver mask, tucking it away. Her delicate and pure features were revealed; her long, curled lashes fluttered. In the moonlight, she gazed at the man on the bed. His breathing had steadied, his quiet face carried a masculine air. Listening to his gentle breaths, watching his chest rise and fall, she found herself dazed, an inexplicable sense of intoxication overtaking her.

Was this what it meant to be drunk? Such a faint feeling, yet two pink flushes appeared on Yinyao’s cheeks. Exhausted, she soon drifted off to sleep beside him.

The next day, the sun rose, warm light spilling through the window and over the bed, where two faces slept close together.

The bed stirred. Ji Xuanyu felt a ticklish sensation on his cheek and another presence breathing nearby, so close, with the faint fragrance of the girl in the blue gauze still lingering in his nose.

He shifted, lifting his face, and felt his nose brush against something soft. Opening his eyes, his cheeks reddened—he had, by accident, engaged in an overly intimate act with his savior: rubbing noses.

Yet in the next moment, he held his breath and gazed at the girl beside him.

She slept quietly, a faint smile on her lips, sweet and beautiful. Her pure, delicate face made his heart seemingly pause for a second. Her long, curled lashes fluttered—so that was the source of the tickling.

Propping his head on one hand, he stared, not daring to breathe too loudly for fear of waking this beauty, not wishing to disturb her dreams—just watching.

Was this what it meant to be drunk? He couldn’t help but grin foolishly.

She slowly opened her eyes, rubbed them, and moved her head, not immediately noticing his presence on the bed. A pure, innocent smile blossomed on her face.

Suddenly, two soft things met; Yinyao’s cheeks flushed bright red. She shrank back in fright, while the man on the bed, stunned, came to his senses, his blush deepening as he quickly turned away, not daring to look again.

Flushed with embarrassment, she turned her back to him, covering her face with both hands. She rushed to the nearby washstand, soaked a towel, and pressed it to her burning cheeks. The coolness soothed her, yet made her even more aware of her own temperature.

Slowly removing the towel, she calmed her heart and regulated her breathing. Only when the blush faded did she quietly head for the door—it was time to wake her mother.

His lips still bore her lingering fragrance, a trace of sweetness he unexpectedly savored. The next moment, he silently berated himself for being shameless, only to break into another silly grin—what was happening to him?

In the corridor, she nearly collided with her mother. The blush that had just faded returned once more—was this the feeling of having done something naughty?

“What’s wrong?” Her mother’s voice was gentle and doting.

“N-nothing!” Covering her face, she ran off, but could not help recalling that beautiful accident, again and again.