Mo Chou and Mo You cried out in alarm, "Miss!"
Seeing their mistress was certain to die, Mo Chou and Mo You felt they might as well die too.
Just then, a miracle happened. A weapon, as thin as a silver thread and imbued with a fierce dominance, shot out from nowhere.
In a flash, it entangled the black-clad man closest to Mu Qingyao. With a toss, he sent the formidable assailant flying several meters away, as easily as throwing vegetables or tofu.
The black-clad man struggled, spat out blood, and collapsed, dead.
Following that, the silver thread, as if possessed of eyes, ensnared another, flinging him out effortlessly. This time, the black-clad man didn't even stir before he was dead.
The air turned icy, and a chilling aura, as if from hell itself, enveloped the scene.
The black-clad assailants were stunned. Simultaneously, they took a step back, forming a circle, their swords raised, their eyes warily scanning their surroundings. They had no idea where the soft weapon had come from, indicating the immense skill of the hidden individual.
Mu Qingyao and her companions gaped, their mouths closing in unison. To kill unseen with nothing more than a soft weapon as fine as a silver hair, this person was likely unfathomably profound. If she could become his disciple, she would undoubtedly acquire formidable skills.
While Qingyao pondered this, the black-clad assailants' faces had turned pale with fear. They seemed to recall something, their disbelief evident, and finally, one murmured, "Who are you? Could it be…"
His words trailed off. At that moment, a faint breeze drifted by. Though as light as goose down, it carried the suffocation of death, enveloping everyone, making them feel as if a colossal stone pressed down on their hearts, rendering them breathless.
When the wind subsided, bathed in myriad beams of light directly before them stood a man with a face like fine jade. His eyebrows, curved like distant mountains, and his eyes, crystal clear like the snow on Mount Tianshan.
Yet, they were so cold, utterly devoid of warmth. His skin, illuminated by the sunlight, was translucent. A cascade of soft, dark hair fell loosely over his shoulders, but this man, a rare sight in heaven and earth, sat serenely in a wheelchair.
At his appearance, the black-clad assailants recoiled as if they had seen a ghost, stumbling back several steps, their speech faltering.
"You, you?"
"Scram," came a gentle utterance from lips as delicate as flower petals. The black-clad men, utterly terrified, fled. The street quickly fell silent.
Mo Chou, clutching her injured arm, walked to Mu Qingyao's side. Together, they gazed at the man in the wheelchair, a single thought forming in their minds: Who is this person?
Qingyao considered his earlier display of skill, truly reaching a state of perfection. If she could learn from him, perhaps no one would dare bully her again. Without further hesitation, she stepped forward, clasped her fists, and said, "Thank you, benefactor, for saving my life. May I know your esteemed name?"
"Wu Qing."
Wu Qing, living up to his name, showed no emotion from beginning to end. As his gaze shifted, a cold aura swept over them. He fixed his gaze on Mu Qingyao, causing her to involuntarily shiver.
This man was of an unparalleled, rare beauty. His flawless countenance, even his gaze, was so clear, free of any impurity, like a solitary snow lotus standing atop the vast, white expanse of Mount Tianshan, its secluded fragrance wafting, yet carrying a chilling presence.
Behind him stood two youths, their faces displeased, glaring at them as if they had committed an unforgivable offense.
"Benefactor Wu Qing, thank you for saving my life. May I ask you one favor?"
Mu Qingyao felt her actions were foolish. The man paid her no mind, and she was speaking to herself.
However, looking at him, Wu Qing's martial arts had reached a state of perfection. If he were willing to teach her, she would never have to endure bullying again.
"Speak," Wu Qing's distant mountain-like eyebrows twitched, and the frost in his eyes deepened.
"Please take the three of us in," Mu Qingyao said, pulling Mo Chou and Mo You forward. With a thud, she knelt down. "We wish to learn martial arts from you."
That face, the most exquisite and outstanding in all the land, turned blank for a moment. Then, a peculiar smile emerged.
At this smile, Mu Qingyao was mesmerized. She could distinctly hear the sound of flowers blooming, so pleasant to the ear. His radiant, water-like face was like the rarest flower in the world, so pure, utterly without a speck of dust.
But he merely chuckled lightly, his demeanor returning to indifference. His beautiful, icy eyes held no warmth as he glanced at Mu Qingyao and the others. His voice, as light as goose feathers, sounded.
"I only acted to save you for the sake of the child in your belly. Otherwise, what concern are your lives to me?"
With those words, he turned and commanded the two youths behind him, "Qing Feng, Ming Yue, let's go."
As his voice fell, Mu Qingyao and the others saw the two youths reach out, assist his wheelchair, and the three of them vanished in the blink of an eye. Their lightness skill was likely so profound as to leave no trace on snow, astonishing them, and inevitably, causing annoyance.
"Miss, this person is truly arrogant. Please get up."
Mei Xin stepped forward to help her mistress. That person named Wu Qing was indeed handsome, a rare figure in the world. His beauty was like that of fine porcelain, exquisitely crafted.
Yet, such a handsome individual was so cold, truly disappointing.
Mu Qingyao stood up, touching her belly. How had he known about the child within? He was truly formidable! And who was this person? Why were those other men so afraid of him?
Wu Qing, true to his name. If he were truly cold-blooded and heartless, why had he intervened to save her for the sake of the child in her belly? If he were compassionate, why was his entire being as cold as frost, his words chilling, his very aura frigid? She couldn't understand.
Mu Qingyao shook her head, casting a glance at the street. They should leave quickly.
But how could they leave? Hooves clattered, and before they could comprehend what was happening, someone leaped from a horse, rushed to her side, and inspected her from head to toe. Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief and, in front of everyone, embraced her tightly.
After a moment of stunned silence, Mu Qingyao's expression turned ice-cold. She violently pushed him away, her gaze fierce and angry as she glared at him.
"Chang Sun Zhu, what are you doing?"
"Qing Yao, you're alright. Let's go back to the manor. I, this Crown Prince, will surely have the scoundrel who harmed you drawn and quartered."
Chang Sun Zhu's handsome face contorted with a bloodthirsty aura as he spoke coldly.
Mu Qingyao stared at him coldly, enunciating each word, "You said that day that if I wanted to leave, I could leave anytime. So now, I want to leave. Don't stop me."
With that, she reached out and pulled Mei Xin, who was by her side, along with her. Mo Chou, clutching her arm, followed closely behind, preparing to depart.
Chang Sun Zhu's face changed drastically. He flashed forward, blocking her path, his voice as soft and flowing as water. "Qing Yao, don't be angry. I promise this will never happen again. Believe me, I will never let anyone harm you again. Mo Chou is injured. Even if you want to leave, wait until her wounds have healed."