Chapter 082: Kill Him! Hurry!

He paid no heed to her frantic biting, but instead grew more frenzied in his teasing, his hunger for the sweet nectar of her lips only intensifying. He was so lost in this madness that he failed to notice the taste of blood at first. Yet even when he did, he did not stop; rather, his desire only burned hotter.

Different, yes, utterly different! He laughed wildly inside, only to have his triumph cut short. Poison Saint suddenly let out a muffled groan, tearing himself away from Jin’er.

He clutched his throat in shock, pointing at Jin’er in disbelief. His face was ashen, lips a dark purple, and his legs trembled uncontrollably. When did she poison him? How had he not noticed? And this poison—

A violent cough wracked his body, and he spat a mouthful of dark blood. For all his confidence and expertise, he could not discern what poison now ravaged him. Shock and unwillingness filled his heart.

Jin’er turned away, struggling to lift a hand and wipe the blood from her lips. Her flushed face wore a cold, triumphant smile. “So, Poison Saint? You are just so-so after all…” If only she had the strength to rise, she would have happily given him seven or eight stabs then and there! His wild plundering of her mouth still made her feel ill.

Poison Saint staggered, nearly falling. In panic, he fumbled out a small bottle, poured several pills into his mouth, and swallowed them. Without so much as a word to Jin’er, he turned and stumbled toward the door.

But before he could escape, the door was flung open from the outside with a thunderous crash. Unprepared, Poison Saint was struck and sent sprawling to the floor.

“Scoundrel!” he snarled, gritting his teeth against the pain. He had no time for this!

But before he could see who had entered, a cold blade pressed to his throat.

Jin’er, afraid Poison Saint would escape, cried out with what strength she could muster, “Kill him!” Her eyes were desperate yet resolute as she fixed them on the newcomer, her voice urgent and pleading.

“You dare?” Poison Saint glared at the beautiful man before him, threatening, “Help me back to my room! Save me, and I’ll give you the antidote for the Deathbane Powder and set you free! Kill me, and you’ll die too!”

“Killing him will save you… trust me!” Jin’er could barely contain her anxiety, yet the aphrodisiac’s effects overwhelmed her, leaving her weak and feverish, her voice sultry and enticing.

“Don’t listen to her! No one but I, Poison Saint, can cure Deathbane Powder! Hurry, help me back! If you delay—” Poison Saint’s body shook violently, lips purple as eggplants, ice crystals appearing on his face, his agony unmistakable.

Snowy Consort frowned at Poison Saint, then looked at Jin’er, her face flushed with desire but her gaze urgent and determined. At last, he swung his arm decisively—blood sprayed, staining his snow-white robe.

Jin’er gasped, then closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, her tense nerves finally relaxing as her body went limp.

When she opened her eyes again, the ethereal man was already by her side.

“How do you feel?” His voice was soft as a feather, tickling her heart.

The aphrodisiac’s power was at its peak; Jin’er’s face and neck burned crimson, her almond eyes clouded with longing. Her cherry lips parted, but no words came—she gazed at him with raw, unhidden yearning. Snowy Consort frowned.

He bent over, scooped the limp Jin’er into his arms, and strode from the room.

As soon as she fell into his embrace, Jin’er looped one arm around his neck, the other pressing against his chest, a low moan slipping from her lips.

Snowy Consort gritted his teeth, ignoring her touch, and walked outside. His brows were drawn, lips pressed thin, gaze steady as he passed the servants’ corpses at the door.

Night had deepened, silence blanketing the grounds. Since Poison Saint hated disturbance by night, the rear courtyard was sparsely patrolled. No one noticed the commotion from Jin’er’s room, and Snowy Consort carried her unimpeded into the adjacent courtyard.

Another moan escaped her lips as her small hand slipped beneath his collar.

He stiffened, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. Forcing himself to ignore her, he hurried toward the small pond in the courtyard, heart pounding ever faster.

“You’re so beautiful…” Jin’er murmured, her fingers wandering as she gazed up at the face that made her dizzy with longing.

Snowy Consort’s expression grew awkward, and he dared not look down at her.

Heaven knew how tempting she was now…

Quickly, he reached the pond and, unable to wait a moment longer, tossed her into the water.

Yes, tossed—he feared that a second’s delay would shatter his resolve.

“Ah!” Jin’er cried out at the sudden chill, and worse, she felt as though she were sinking to the bottom, unable to breathe, her body wracked with discomfort.

The cold water subdued some of the aphrodisiac’s effects, clarity returning by degrees. She realized where she was.

But she couldn’t swim! Damn it! Who had thrown her in—Poison Saint? No, he had been killed… Snowy Consort? Was it him? Why would he harm her?

As confusion and panic warred within her, she felt herself drowning, her lungs burning for air. Suddenly, a hand seized her arm and hauled her upward.

With a splash, Jin’er’s head broke the surface.

She gasped for air, swallowing water in her haste and coughing violently, her body collapsing against something solid beside her.

It was a long time before she could catch her breath. She wiped the water from her face, turning unconsciously—and her eyes fell on the smooth, pale skin of his neck.

She stared, her gaze drifting up his neck, his gentle jaw, his tempting red lips… until at last she met a pair of luminous, almond-shaped eyes.

Jin’er stared in a daze, unable to react for a moment.

“Feeling better?” Snowy Consort asked softly.

His voice was gentle, not effeminate but achingly tender, impossible not to be moved by. At least, Jin’er found it irresistible.

She blinked, slowly coming to herself, then nodded sheepishly.

Remembering the feverish haze from before, she realized she did feel much better—her mind was clear. Still, leaning against this handsome man, both of them wet, and her body not quite free of heat, she had to force herself to suppress all wicked thoughts.

“Don’t let go,” she said awkwardly, turning her head away.

“I’m afraid you’ll slip under.” The pool was shallow enough she could stand with water to her shoulders, but given her state, he feared she’d collapse if he let go.

Jin’er pressed her lips together, unsure what to say. She felt embarrassed yet reluctant to move away. Honestly, she doubted she could stand on her own.

After a long pause, she said quietly, “Thank you. If you hadn’t come when you did… and killed Poison Saint… I don’t know what would have happened.”

If he hadn’t arrived, that old monster might have escaped. Her master had said her blood was the deadliest poison on the continent, but Poison Saint was, after all, the Poison Saint. He might have survived by some fluke. The fact he had lasted so long proved his strength; an ordinary person would have died instantly.

“You’re welcome.” While Jin’er’s thoughts tumbled, Snowy Consort replied simply, his tone as light as a breeze.

An awkward silence fell again.

Jin’er could hear both their heartbeats, her own breath quick and shallow. Why was it so quiet around them?

After a deep breath, she turned to him. “Weren’t you afraid that, after killing Poison Saint, there’d be no antidote for you?”

He looked down at her, a faint smile blooming on his lips like a night flower, beautiful enough to shame the stars.

“I was afraid. But didn’t you tell me to trust you?” His gentle voice was as alluring as his looks.

Jin’er’s eyes twitched. His answer was… how to put it? Rather adorable…

“But we only met this afternoon,” she said, still puzzled.

Honestly, in her place, she wouldn’t have trusted someone so easily, especially with her life at stake.

He smiled, the moonlight reflected in his eyes, rippling with an indescribable charm. “I don’t know why—at that moment, I simply felt I could trust you. I didn’t think too much about it.” He met her gaze, as if searching for something in her eyes.

Jin’er was taken aback, then broke into a sweet smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks.

“Of course. I’ll cure you, don’t worry.”

He nodded lightly, gazing up at the night sky. “Even if you can’t cure me, I won’t blame you. In Poison Saint’s hands, I’d die sooner or later anyway. Rather than suffer his humiliation, I’d rather kill him now. Even if I die of poison, at least I’ve rid the world of a scourge, and my death has meaning.”

Earlier that night, Poison Saint had sought him out, and after some casual conversation, his covetous gaze had turned to Snowy Consort, even laying hands on him. Snowy Consort had resisted, and Poison Saint, frustrated, had left. It was that frustration that drove him to Jin’er’s room.

Jin’er caught the note of sorrow in his words and couldn’t help but frown.

“Why be so pessimistic? I said I’ll save you, and I will. It would be a shame for someone so beautiful to die.” As soon as the words left her lips, she blushed and lowered her head in embarrassment.

Snowy Consort, too, flushed faintly at her words.

Silence fell once more…

“What’s your name?” he asked at last, breaking the awkward quiet.

“Oh, I’m Jin’er,” she replied with a smile.

“Jin’er… what a lovely name,” he murmured.

“And you? Are you really called Snowy Consort, or do you have another name?” she asked curiously.

“Snowy Consort is just my stage name in the Kingdom of Gold. My real name is Qingyue.” He gazed at the distant stars, a hint of melancholy in his expression.

“That’s a beautiful name, too. May I call you Qingyue from now on?”

He nodded, his eyes still resting on the horizon.

For some reason, Jin’er sensed a lingering sadness in his eyes, and her heart ached for him.

After a long silence, she realized his body was growing cold from the water. “Why don’t you get out? You’ll catch cold.”

“It’s fine. I’ll stay with you. I don’t feel the cold, but you…”

“I’m not cold either,” Jin’er said, but Qingyue cut her off, his tone resolute.

She opened her mouth to protest, but finally gave up. They’d only met today, yet it felt as if they’d known each other much longer.

Since he insisted, she let herself relax, closing her eyes and leaning her head on his chest.

Feeling her trust, Qingyue’s body tensed, but he soon relaxed, tightening his arm around her just a little.

They remained like that, soaking in the water for most of the night. Eventually, as the drug’s effects faded, Jin’er drifted into sleep. When Qingyue finally lifted her from the pond, she awoke.

Dawn was still an hour away.

“Let’s go back to my room. I need dry clothes,” Jin’er said with a yawn, nestled in his arms.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt a natural closeness and trust toward Qingyue—perhaps just as he had trusted her.

Qingyue agreed softly, carrying her over the wall and back to her room.

Seeing the corpses and dried blood, memories of the night came flooding back, and Jin’er frowned.

“It’s over now, don’t dwell on it,” Qingyue said gently, setting her down and stepping outside, closing the door behind him.

Yes, it was over. She needed to look forward. With a sigh, Jin’er pushed aside her thoughts, quickly changed out of her wet clothes, dried herself, and put on a fresh outfit.

She tied her long hair into a ponytail with a green silk ribbon, then stepped outside.

“Let’s search his room for the antidote.” Jin’er was brisk and composed now, her eyes bright and sharp, all traces of earlier weakness gone.

Qingyue stared at her for a long moment before hurrying to follow.

They moved silently through the wide back courtyard, evading the few patrolling guards, and reached Poison Saint’s room.

They searched thoroughly but found only common poisons, not the antidote for Deathbane Powder.

“How can it not be here?” Jin’er muttered in frustration.

Qingyue scanned the room, his gaze landing on a small bookshelf in the corner. He walked over and tried moving it; to their surprise, it shifted, grinding open to reveal a hidden entrance.

“A secret chamber?” Jin’er exclaimed with delight, hurrying over.

Peering inside, she saw it was not a tunnel but a small hidden room, lit by luminous pearls embedded in the walls.

Qingyue lit an oil lamp, brightening the chamber further.

They entered, stopping before a stone pedestal.

“Do you think it’s in here?” Qingyue asked, reaching for a long, ornate box.

“Wait!” Jin’er cried, startling him so much his hand jerked back.

“Let me do it,” she said, pulling him behind her, every inch the picture of caution—so focused she didn’t notice the tenderness and admiration in Qingyue’s eyes.

Frowning, Jin’er took the box with one hand, carefully lifting the lid with the other.

She had barely opened a crack when a slender black shadow shot out, so fast it seemed almost an illusion, darting onto her left hand.

“Watch out!” Qingyue cried out behind her in alarm.