Man! If you're fine, take a few steps.

Chapter Title: 013 Man! Can You Walk a Few Steps?

The assassin drew nearer, snapping off a branch from the side and flicking it swiftly. The branch shot toward Fang Rulai’s back with the speed of a dart.

Fang Rulai, running forward without daring to look back, felt a cold murderous intent bearing down on her, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling in alarm.

Mu Zhijin, who witnessed all this, let contempt flicker in his eyes once more. In the next moment, he, too, broke a branch expertly in his hand.

Whoosh—the branch flew out.

This time, the threat was aimed at her calf.

Fang Rulai nearly wanted to cry. Why the calf, for heaven’s sake? Shouldn’t it be like on TV, where a hidden weapon intercepts another to save her from peril? Shooting at her leg? Was he trying to force her to die even faster?

“Mu Zhijin, you remember this!” Fang Rulai managed to spit out a venomous retort before Mu Zhijin’s branch struck her calf, sending her crashing to her knees.

A thorn scraped across Fang Rulai’s face.

She groaned, her body tilting as her face struck the ground first.

At that very instant, whoosh—clang! Another branch embedded itself vertically in the trunk of the tree before her. The tremendous force made the tender new buds rain down on Fang Rulai’s head.

She looked up, twin streams of blood trickling from her nose, mingling with the fallen buds. Amid the vivid red and green, she broke into a delighted smile: so he would still save her, after all!

Alright, she took back what she’d said earlier.

Fang Rulai let out a long sigh of relief, stealing a glance behind her. Seeing the two men locked in combat again, she wasted no time in getting up and running forward.

She ran and ran—wait, why wasn’t anyone chasing her this time?

She turned back in confusion, just in time to see the assassin’s foot connect squarely with Mu Zhijin’s chest.

Mu Zhijin shot into the air like a severed kite and crashed heavily at Fang Rulai’s feet. A mouthful of blood splattered onto his already crimson robe, making it even more striking.

Pressing his palm to the ground, Mu Zhijin sprang up, his arm wrapping around Fang Rulai’s waist, and, gathering his energy, vaulted forward.

Naturally, his pace was much quicker than hers alone. Fang Rulai gleefully clung to Mu Zhijin’s waist. “Master Zhijin, thanks for the lift.”

Mu Zhijin ignored her completely.

Just as Fang Rulai was admiring his selfless, red-scarf spirit, a sudden gust of chilling wind behind them wiped her smile away.

More flying branches than before were hurtling after them at an alarming speed.

Mu Zhijin and Fang Rulai fled forward, leaving their backs exposed—a clear invitation for the assassin: “Shoot here, no one’s guarding this spot.” Dragged behind Mu Zhijin, Fang Rulai was, to put it nobly, a human shield protecting him; less nobly, she was a decoy, used by Mu Zhijin to draw the assassin’s attention so he could escape unimpeded.

Fang Rulai tried to keep her voice steady, despite death looming close. “Master Zhijin, maybe you should drop this baggage and save yourself.” If this went on, she feared she’d die before he did.

Mu Zhijin swept aside several flying branches with his sleeve, then coughed up another mouthful of blood onto his chest.

Still, he ignored Fang Rulai.

But she guessed he probably lacked the strength to answer her.

On the deserted back mountain, one man was dragging a monk and leaping forward, another was chasing behind, launching branch darts relentlessly.

Fang Rulai inexplicably felt a sense of romantic rivalry in the air.

Whoosh—another branch grazed her monk’s robe, revealing her trembling long underwear.

She was once again at her wit’s end. Eighteen years spent quietly minding her own business, yet now she was forced to be nothing more than a prop, dangling behind as a moving target. When would this end, so she could bow out gracefully?

Just as this thought crossed her mind, Mu Zhijin suddenly stopped.

Because ahead—there was no path.

This time, Fang Rulai truly cried. The thick mist clinging to the ground for years was enough to tell her that the cliff ahead was bottomless.

She quickly stepped back. “You’re not Yang Guo, and I’m not Little Dragon Maiden. Let’s find another way.”

Turning around, she saw the assassin drawing near, murder in his eyes.

Fang Rulai shoved Mu Zhijin in front of her. “You cover me, I’ll find a way out.”

She crouched, ready to slip away, but Mu Zhijin’s large hand caught her by the waist. “Baggage, it’s your turn to provide cover!”

Huh?

Before Fang Rulai could grasp his meaning, Mu Zhijin lifted her high in both hands.

“Go!” he shouted, hurling her at the assassin like a sack.

She flew fast and hard, the wind whipping past, even the bushes parted in her wake.

Fang Rulai shut her eyes in despair, vowing to detour and complain to the Jade Emperor before ascending to serve the Buddha. She’d tell him that this Master Zhijin was the mortal reincarnation who’d slept with his sister, his daughter, and his niece!

The assassin flashed a knowing grin, planted his lead foot and braced his rear, preparing to end it in one decisive strike.

Fang Rulai’s monk’s robe, lifted by the wind, nearly swept his face. Now!

The assassin gathered his strength, raised his sword and thrust—slice, splatter. The sword moved too fast, the force too strong, and blood sprayed everywhere, splattering Fang Rulai’s face.

With a thud, the assassin hit the ground before Fang Rulai did.

As her robe settled, Mu Zhijin’s outstretched arms emerged from behind.

It turned out that while he seemed to betray Fang Rulai, Mu Zhijin had used her body as a shield to swiftly close in on the assassin. As the assassin focused entirely on striking Fang Rulai, Mu Zhijin, with precision and ruthlessness, drove his sword into the assassin’s heart ahead of time.

“Mu Zhijin!” Fang Rulai, halfway risen, looked up to see Mu Zhijin’s body collapsing downward. She hurriedly knelt forward, catching him before he fell. “Are you alright?”

Mu Zhijin, still disdainful, shoved her away and leaned against a nearby stone. “Not running anymore?”

“Uh!” Fang Rulai sheepishly recalled how he’d saved her several times while she’d tried to abandon him. “Well… hey, what are you doing? You shouldn’t pull out darts in such unsanitary places!”

Halfway through her protest, she saw Mu Zhijin preparing to pull the dart from his chest. She reached out to stop him, but his disdainful gaze froze her hand midair.

At last, Fang Rulai understood that this Master Zhijin suffered from the ancient male ailment: he looked down on women!

“Tch, look at the state you’re in!” Fang Rulai retorted, unwilling to accept his scorn. With him looking half dead, did he still have the right to belittle her?

Mu Zhijin yanked out the dart and handed it to her. “Indeed, a frightful sight.”

On the clean, bloodless shaft, Fang Rulai’s blood-streaked face was clearly reflected.

“Ah!” Fang Rulai shrieked, drawing a laugh from the pain-wracked Mu Zhijin.

“Hmph, women!” Mu Zhijin snorted, sprinkling medicine on his wound.

Fang Rulai wiped her face, glared at him, and said, “Men! If you’re fine, walk a few steps!” With his brows knotted in pain, did he really have the leisure to mock her?

Mu Zhijin ignored her provocation, glanced at the sky, and said, “Go, clean up the bodies.”

Fang Rulai had no say in the matter. With a branch in his hand, wherever he pointed, she had to drag the bodies accordingly.

Disobedience? Smack—the branch would land exactly an inch from her toes.

Obediently, Fang Rulai dragged all the corpses off the cliff, all the while pondering how to slyly ask about Zhu Xishi.

Turning around, she found Mu Zhijin had already collapsed on the ground.

Fang Rulai felt a rush of joy and bounded lightly to his side, bending to pick up the dart he’d thrown down.

Heartfelt thanks to the friends who supported Qingye on December 3rd (in no particular order): Stinky Egg Haha, Xi Pipi, Never Rains in a Lifetime, C Banxia/Like Smoke, chenqing2008. Love you all!

Also: LK, the legendary Master Ke, is about to come online~

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