Legend of Fu Yao

Chapter 268 - Untitled



Chapter 268 - Untitled

Chapter 268: Untitled



Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios


‘Huh?’


Hmph!


Ya Lanzhu jumped up, grabbing one wine jar, and she flung it around.


She leaped towards a wall along the alley. In mid-air, she whirled the jar in her hand, launching it forward against the incoming arrow. Just as she flung out the jar, she noticed something wrong from the corner of her eye. She turned around and saw that Lord Yuan Bao was missing. And then, she spotted a ball of white fur with huge eyes gawking at her from inside the jar…


Ya Lanzhu shrieked as she lunged forward. But she was too late. The wine jar had already collided with the arrow. Ya Lanzhu screamed again as she closed her eyes, afraid that a bloody skewered guinea pig would greet her the moment she opened her eyes. In the end, she heard a man holler.


Ya Lanzhu hesitantly opened her eyes and witnessed a sauve Lord Yuan Bao stepping on the arrow as it did a perfect 360-degrees somersault, and its claws heading towards the man who drew the bow…


It clawed out his eyes…


That man hollered in pain, swinging his sword randomly. With swift movements, Lord Yuan Bao skittered around, avoiding the sharp blade flexibly. There were a couple of close shaves, scaring the onlooker witless. She quickly rushed forward and smashed the other wine jar over. That group of men in grey swarmed over, surrounding her completely with razor-sharp swords in their hands.


The leader of the group looked over to the majestic King of Dahan Manor and hesitated. Then, he ordered decisively. “Get this over quickly!”


Ya Lanzhu giggled as she drew her dagger. “Come, I haven’t fought in a while, and I’m itching to fight!”


Lord Yuan returned to her shoulders and posed in an intrepid manner.


They encircled her. Ya Lanzhu’s curved dagger brought with it a rainbow light, forcing them to retreat. In the hectic situation, she turned back to look at the dying person she just saved. He was disheveled; his messy hair stuck to the gooey blood, covering half his face. Even so, Ya Lanzhu managed to recall who he was eventually.


Surprised, she gasped, “It’s you—”


As Ya Lanzhu and Lord Yuan Bao savored their wine, Great Ol’ Mighty Meng was still in her beauty sleep.


She dreamt that she was in a huge palace, feeding her mother ginseng soup. It was tranquil in the palace. The only sounds that could be heard were the tinkling of the ceramic spoon against the bowl. She smiled at her mother, her mother smiled back at her. Just like that, the two happily gazed at each other. Suddenly, someone broke into the palace and then a gigantic stone crashed onto her.


Meng Fuyao’s eyes flung open…


A nightmare? Ghost on her body? Why did she feel that the heavy object was still on her, and there was an icy breeze coming in?


Then, the scent of alcohol hit her, and she could hear the breathing sound of another.


She slowly looked as she tried to decipher who that person was based on his clothes and size.


That… That… That damn Zhan Beiye! He actually dared to use her as a meat cushion and just fell asleep like this?!


Meng Fuyao immediately pushed him off viciously, but Zhan Beiye suddenly rolled over. Not only did he not fall off the bed, but he was also now facing her, hugging her tightly.


Meng Fuyao frowned. She lifted her knees and tried to move him away from her with all her might but even so, that man remained unmoved.


Meng Fuyao scowled and reprimanded, “Zhan Beiye you are drunk from all that Yellow Wine! How dare you barge into my room!”


The person on her suddenly opened his eyes, and she found herself facing that pair of black pupils in close proximity. Behind those eyes, it was as though there’s a dark abyss eager to suck her in. With such a gaze on her, Meng Fuyao felt as though her heart was being pulled in by those eyes and actually started to ache.


That guy mumbled. “This is my room.”


“Uh…” Meng Fuyao was stunned. Surveying her surroundings, she realized that the decorations of this room looked nothing like how a master bedroom should, rather, it looked more like a guest room. Could it be that she was the one that made a mistake instead?


“Fine, I’ll let you then.” Meng Fuyao pushed him away, but Zhan Beiye refused to move. Lazily, he muttered, “I’ve drunk too much. I don’t want to move after lying down.”


He stayed still, leaning against Meng Fuyao as he took in her natural scent. The fragrant scent of hers made him inebriated like the wine tonight, with light undertones of jasmine that lingered in his lung chambers.


This scent was all around, enticing one to chase after it. Yet, it was always dancing amongst the wind, untouchable.


Zhan Beiye closed his eyes and took a deep breath…


He didn’t think too much, he just wanted to quietly immerse himself in her presence and smell. He had all the wealth in the world but yet, such precious alone time with her was not something that could be bought.


He didn’t want to force her, didn’t want to go against her… then, please just allow him to silently keep this precious memory for him to reminisce in the future days of separation.


An exasperated exhalation of breath escaped her lips as she muttered, “Poor bed…”


And then she punched!


Smashing the bed beneath her with her fist!


The entire bed collapsed, putting distance between the two. Meng Fuyao grabbed this chance and rolled out of his embrace, kicking the blanket over Zhan Beiye on her way up.


She was in her underclothes, standing barefoot on the ground. She glared angrily at Zhan Beiye as she grabbed her outer robe, ready to leave.


“Wait!” Zhan Beiye stopped her.


Meng Fuyao ignored him and continued striding forward. Zhan Beiye climbed up from the blanket nest and pulled Meng Fuyao back. And then, he got down on one knee.


Meng Fuyao frowned as she scolded, “Zhan Beiye, please don’t force me to become a fishwife. If things do get to that stage, it won’t be nice for any of us. We are all smart people—”


Her sentence was stopped halfway.


The warm moonlight cast upon Zhan Beiye’s straightened back, shining upon the pair of shoes in his hand.


Meng Fuyao’s shoes.


Zhan Beiye carried it in his hands and then, got down on one knee.


Half kneeling, he gently lifted up her leg as he said lovingly, “You can run all you want, but not wearing shoes in the cold winter, are you out to make me feel bad if you catch a cold?”


The silvery moonlight drew the outlines of the Dahan Emperor on one knee. In no way did he feel that he had condescended to a simple man, nor did he feel that he had given any exceptions to her. In the most natural and loving manner, he carefully put on shoes for the woman he loved. His hands that were rough with calluses came into contact with her sensitized smooth, tender skin, making her skin burn with embarrassment. Her slightly cold and beautiful foot was in his palm, soft like jade, making his heart tremble.


Taken aback, she only felt that the burning fingers flustered her as she hastily pulled back her feet. Afraid that he was going to wear the other shoe for her, she hurriedly shoved her foot into the shoe on the floor. But even so, the Emperor of Dahan remained in the same position, lowering his head down slightly. The tips of his ears were completely reddened.


He did not think much of putting on her shoes for her. While he might be the Emperor of a country, his status was not something he could flaunt in front of her. After all, he had met her in his most difficult times, and she was the one by his side. Half of Dahan could be considered hers. What’s more, she had saved him more than once. In front of such a girl, the pride of an emperor or the authority of a king were all rendered into nothing. He simply wanted her to wear her shoes, afraid that she might catch a cold.


But every time they touched, he could not contain himself…


Still kneeling on one knee, he took a deep breath. His hand was on the icy cold ground, supporting him as he tried to suppress the raging desires. After a while, he slowly stood up.


Meng Fuyao hastily put on her outer robe. She really did not know what to say. Covering her face with her sleeves, she said awkwardly, “I’m off.”


She turned to leave. Suddenly, she heard a scratching sound.


It was a weird scratching sound like an animal clawing against the wall. Then, with a flash, a white Lord Yuan Bao appeared, yelling aggressively as it waved its claws in the air. “Chichi! Chichi!”


Meng Fuyao laughed. What’s this drunkard doing?’ she thought but to her utter shock, she noticed a red splotch on Lord Yuan Bao’s white fur.


Blood?


Meng Fuyao made her way over to the wall, and Zhangsun Wuji and Zhan Beiye suddenly appeared beside her. Zhangsun Wuji reached his hands out and carried Lord Yuan Bao over. He was initially sleeping in the next room and had already gotten up upon hearing the loud commotion from the bed collapsing. Somehow, the always neat and tidy Crown Prince was a little disheveled. His collar was unfastened, revealing that exquisite collarbone and sexy chest. Laziness, yet laced with sexiness. Meng Fuyao blushed at this sight, quickly turning her gaze away.


Zhangsun Wuji glanced at her and then glanced at Zhan Beiye. As Lord Yuan Bao tried to communicate, Meng Fuyao made her way up the wall as she repeated. “Furball got hurt? Hm? Furball got hurt!”


Her last sentence was doused in a murderous aura. Lord Yuan Bao, now squatting in Zhangsun Wuji’s palm, pointed animatedly towards the alley outside. The trio turned and noticed that a colorful figure was currently in a blood bath. A group of grey men surrounded her, intentionally forcing her towards the manor.


Looking at the design of the dagger, she knew it was Ya Lanzhu.


“How dare you!” Meng Fuyao bellowed in rage. “I didn’t go out to hunt for any rabbits, and someone actually had the balls to kill my rabbit!”


Before she was done yelling, Zhan Beiye had already rushed out to save Rabbit Ya. His guards and the manor’s soldiers were already alarmed as they sprang to action.


Standing tall on the wall, Meng Fuyao had her arms to her hips as she ordered, “Go! Capture the leader alive. The rest, slaughter!”



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