Zhuo Qing sensed that the man did not truly intend to stand by and watch her perish; otherwise, he would have ignored her fate and rushed forward to seize the culprit instead of remaining motionless. Yet, there was no need to provoke her so cruelly!
A sharp sting seized her neck. Though the wound was shallow, blood slowly oozed out, its faint metallic scent wafting through the air. Zhuo Qing gasped, "Damn, that hurts!" Damn it! Big brother, do you even know how to negotiate? If not, please send a professional negotiator!
The metallic tang inflamed the desperation edging the bearded man toward madness. Veins bulged on his forehead, his bloodshot eyes fixed fiercely on the man as he bellowed, "You forced me! You forced me!" His heavy blade swung toward Zhuo Qing's pale neck—
Panic gripped her heart. The bearded man's other hand clutched her shoulder tightly, pinning her in place. Helpless, Zhuo Qing could only await death as the blade neared.
In the instant before the blade struck, the man in blue lifted his phoenix-like eyes, caught the raised arm, and with lightning speed, a slender, cicada-wing-thin throwing knife, no larger than a leaf, shot forth from between his fingers.
Zhuo Qing felt a fierce gust sweep across her neck, then sudden heat as blood spattered onto her collarbone.
"Ah!" The bearded man screamed like a slaughtered pig, his blade clattering to the ground, but his other hand still gripped Zhuo Qing with iron resolve.
Damn! Without the threat of the blade, Zhuo Qing seized the opportunity—grasping his elbow with her left hand and his shoulder with her right, steadying her stance with lowered center of gravity, dropping her right shoulder, twisting her waist to the left, and driving force vertically downward.
Reciting Gu Yun's over-the-shoulder throw technique silently, she closed her eyes and summoned every ounce of strength to hurl the bearded man fiercely.
With a thunderous thud, the man felt his body lighten, the world spinning uncontrollably as he crashed onto the cobblestones, agony ripping through his back.
Zhuo Qing fared no better; her reckless exertion seemed to have twisted her waist, sharp pain contorting her face. Barely freed from his grasp, she staggered toward the man in blue.
The man shrugged exaggeratedly, shaking his head with a mock expression of profound exasperation, murmuring with a click of his tongue, "The jianghu is truly perilous, perilous indeed!"
No wonder the old man said the most dangerous, the most fearsome in the jianghu are women! With her slender limbs, she had thrown a man nearly twice her size. The old man was truly insightful!
Zhuo Qing shot him a sharp glare.
Meanwhile, the bearded man struggled painfully to his feet, leaving a thin trail of blood behind as he fled. Evidently, the flying knife had struck true.
"Trying to escape!" The man in blue shouted, swiftly untying a hemp rope from his waist. Crafting a noose, he effortlessly ensnared the bearded man and with a sharp tug, sent him sprawling again.
Perhaps due to the severity of his wounds, the man groaned on the ground, unable to rise.
Tying the rope's other end to his own waist, the blue-clad man smiled triumphantly, "Let's see where you can run now! He's worth five hundred taels! We've chased him for three months—if he gets away, this deal's ruined."
Leading the bearded man back, the man noticed Zhuo Qing leaning against a stone wall, pale and gasping for breath. Approaching her awkwardly, he asked, "Hey, are you alright?"
"No." Zhuo Qing massaged her spasming waist, sweat pouring from her brow. Her complexion was deathly pale; the bloodstain on her neck was conspicuously vivid.
After all, she was a woman, and it was partly his doing that she was injured. He felt a faint sense of responsibility; he couldn't just abandon her.
After endless self-persuasion, as if summoning great resolve, he cautiously produced a small vial from his pocket. Turning away, he fiddled with it for a while before facing her again.
"Here."
Zhuo Qing looked up as he grasped her hand, placing a black, peanut-sized pill in her palm, eyes reluctant.
"What is this?"
With enthusiasm, he replied, "This is a miraculous pill—stops bleeding, disperses bruises, calms the mind, detoxifies, and dispels wind! You must take it now."
"Miraculous pill?" Zhuo Qing stared down at the dark, oddly odorous pellet. It looked like a dubious, unregulated product—there was no way she would swallow that.
She sneered, and the man, irritated, lunged to snatch it back, scolding, "If you don't take it, give it back! If not for you being a girl, I wouldn't bother. Ungrateful! This single pill costs fifty taels!"
Though she would never consume it, seeing his obsessive greed, Zhuo Qing clenched her fist, hiding the pill behind her back.
The man moved forward again, but Zhuo Qing flashed a mischievous grin and tossed the pill casually. With a graceful motion, the pill vanished amidst the rubble.
She actually threw it away?!
The man stared, his youthful face filled with heartbreak. Fifty taels! Fifty!
Well, she just couldn't be a good Samaritan.
Her complexion brightened, except for the bloodied wound on her neck, she was otherwise unharmed and still had energy to spar with him. He shouldn't have meddled with her in the first place.
Returning to the bearded man, the man vented by kicking him twice fiercely.
Grabbing the man's arm, whistling, he strode toward the alley's exit without another glance at Zhuo Qing.
This man was truly something.
Slowly, he opened his other hand. The black pill remained in his palm; it had switched sides the moment he turned away.
He slipped the pill casually into a hidden pocket at his waist.
Zhuo Qing called out to his wavering figure, "Hey, what's your name?"
"Qian Jing—" came his distant shout through the winding alley.
"Money man?!" Zhuo Qing was dumbfounded, disbelief etched across her face. How obsessed with money could he be!
Recalling his incessant muttering about money, she had to admit, his parents were truly farsighted.
After sitting in the corner for a while, she finally regained her strength. Supporting herself against the stone wall, she slowly moved through the alley.
But barely a few steps, her waist began to throb painfully again. Leaning back against the wall, Zhuo Qing smiled bitterly. She must be incredibly unlucky—twenty years of life and these past few days had been the most eventful.
Supporting her waist, she inched toward the alley entrance when suddenly a sleek black carriage appeared, nearly blocking the narrow path.
Its modest yet exquisite canopy and the tall, glossy steed attested to the carriage's high status.
Zhuo Qing glanced around—no coachman or other souls in sight. With the road blocked and her waist aching fiercely, she decided to rest inside the carriage a while, stretch her back, then continue.
Resolute, she lifted the long skirt, grasped the carriage frame with one hand and the shaft with the other, and heaved herself aboard.
Pulling back the curtain, Zhuo Qing stepped inside and locked eyes with a pair of smiling eyes.
Someone was in the carriage?
Upon seeing the man's face, Zhuo Qing's guts churned with regret. Those narrow, disdainful eyes glittered with a mocking light, and the curled lips made him utterly detestable.