Chapter Ninety-Eight: Crisis Once Again

“Yes, I know everything.” Hearing this, Ji Wuqing let out a soft laugh, his gentle voice tinged with an intoxicating allure. His large hand caressed her cheek, lifting her face and drawing it closer to his own.

“You know?” Feeling his proximity, she involuntarily held her breath.

“Hush, isn’t this hardly a secret?” His hands gently cradled her face, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, rubbing softly at her brow.

Because she was lying atop him, she had to brace herself with her hands against his chest, feeling the powerful heartbeat beneath her palms. Each beat seemed to scorch her, making her breathing unsteady.

He watched her flustered expression, savoring every nuance.

Sensing his gaze, she broke the strange silence. “Don’t keep looking at me like that, I… I’ll get shy.” She reached out, covering his eyes precisely, then used her strength to push his head away.

“Then I won’t look.” The king replied readily, and Xuexue let out a sigh of relief. Yet Ji Wuqing added, “But I so want to see your shy expression.” As he spoke, he placed a hand over hers, pressing it gently against his eyes instead of removing it.

His other hand remained against her cheek, changing position to lightly pinch her delicate chin.

He leaned in; Xuexue didn’t move, her heartbeat shifting in tempo.

Until his lips, warm and soft, covered hers, landing precisely on her lips, gentle as falling snowflakes. She, like a snowflake herself, seemed to melt beneath his kiss…

During the kiss, she removed her hand from his eyes, gently supporting herself on the soft couch. Their positions shifted: he lay on his back, black hair spread out, while she nestled affectionately in his embrace—one pale hand against his chest, the other unconsciously clasping his large hand.

In this posture, it was entirely a scene of the strong woman and the gentle man.

“Xue’er…”

Ji Wuqing breathed softly, murmuring her name, the hand that held her chin slipping to embrace her waist, continuing the kiss, as though conquering a city, dominant and fierce.

Xuexue felt her lips going numb and sore from his sucking, as if all her strength was being drained away, and her hand on his chest could no longer support her.

Sensing her change, only then did he release her. His hand moved to the crown of her head, fingers entangling in her hair, letting her rest against him, gasping gently.

Xuexue lay weakly on his chest, her small hand still lightly held in his palm. If she moved it a little, she could touch the bandages on his wrist—the wound bitten by the venomous insect. She wondered if it hurt.

She unconsciously rubbed his wrist, sighing quietly.

“Why the sigh? Was my performance unsatisfactory?” he teased, his chin rubbing gently against her hair, his tone both relaxed and mischievous.

“…I’m just worried.” Anxiety gnawed at her heart. She didn’t know when they would return to Ji Kingdom. Ji Wuqing was gravely poisoned; her heart could not settle.

“Don’t fret. I’m right here beside you.” He gently ruffled her hair, the gesture soothing her.

Hearing this, she nestled against him, eyes narrowing in comfort, her heart finally quieting a little.

However, when she awoke, night had fallen. Their entourage had stopped in a forest.

Darkness cast a shadow, the wind rustling through the trees, quiet yet carrying a dangerous undertone.

She sensed the unusual atmosphere around her, then opened her eyes. She was lying on a soft bed, someone beside her, his hand resting on her through the blanket.

“Ziqing…”

“Hush.” His hand pressed against her lips.

“What… what’s wrong?” She reached for his hand, feeling its burning heat.

“I’m a bit feverish.” Ji Wuqing managed a smile, but his handsome face was pale and frightening, though his dark eyes shone with a sharp, penetrating light.

Xuexue said nothing more. Such abnormal temperature surely meant the poison was acting up.

But what could she do?

She sat up, gathering her strength despite her weakness. This was no time to relax; she had to protect Ji Wuqing.

“Don’t move, I still have enough strength to protect you.” Suddenly, Ji Wuqing grabbed her hand, pulling her back to his side. “Or is it that Xue’er wants to protect her husband?”

He smiled with effortless elegance, even now.

“I just don’t want to be your burden.” She broke free from his hand, speaking calmly, then lifted the curtain and stepped onto the carriage.

Danger lurked all around, two groups facing off in silent confrontation.

Though their numbers were fewer, the balance of power was evenly matched.

“Madam, please return to the carriage. We will deal with these people.” The black-armored guards urged her, their tone serious and commanding, showing that the situation was not in their favor.

But who were these people? Were they from Wu Kingdom, or sent by the Empress Dowager?

She stood there, pondering, not replying.

The men in black among the trees fixed their gaze on her; clearly, she was their target.

Xuexue felt it too, her brows furrowing. She had indeed brought trouble upon Ji Wuqing.

The black-clad figures gave her little time to think. As if sure of their goal, they attacked her with venomous intent.

The hidden guards in black armor acted instantly, blocking the assault.

Xuexue stood, unruffled, quietly sensing the currents of battle around her, considering how she might intervene. Yet a pair of strong arms suddenly lifted her, “Let’s go!” Ji Wuqing carried her, weaving through the forest with ease.

“You shouldn’t be expending your energy right now!” The scent of blood grew stronger, clinging to Ji Wuqing.

His body temperature kept rising; she could feel it even through his robes.

She reached out, touching his arm as he held her, sliding down to his wrist where, through cloth and bandage, she sensed dampness—sticky and moist. The blood from the wound had soaked his white robe, staining it deep purple, like an indelible blot, strange and alarming.

Her heart skipped a beat. She had sensed it already—Ji Wuqing’s wound had suddenly torn open, the smell of blood spreading!

“Xue’er, now is not the time for this.” Ji Wuqing paused, then leaped onto a tree branch with her in his arms.

The relentless men in black halted as well, jumping onto surrounding branches, encircling them.

Sensing their dire predicament, Xuexue calmed herself.

Soon, the men in black grew impatient, swords raised as they surged forward, not in chaos but slowly tightening their circle, hoping to trap Ji Wuqing and Xuexue.

Ji Wuqing responded coolly, holding Xuexue as he delivered a swift side kick to the attackers, breaking their formation.

But the balance of power was undeniable; Ji Wuqing gradually slipped into disadvantage.

Xuexue knew their peril, and so did their enemies.

A long sword aimed straight at Xuexue, its coldness slicing through the air. She flexed her hand, preparing to fight, but Ji Wuqing moved to shield her…

“Ji Wuqing!” Xuexue acted swiftly, striking the attacker with her palm.

In an instant, the man in black collapsed, limp as the dead.

This was the Soul Capturing Art—not a cruel spell meant to kill, but a craft unique to the Guantao family, the power that breathed life into clay dolls.

The other men in black were stunned for a moment, but soon, fearless, they charged again.

And then…

Xuexue dispatched them all in a single night.

After the fight, Ji Wuqing was exhausted, holding Xuexue as he sat amid the grass, back against a sturdy tree. The breeze stirred the wild grasses around them.

Xuexue’s heart weighed heavy; she leaned softly against Ji Wuqing’s warm chest, having spent all her strength in the battle. With the blood tears within her, it was only more overwhelming. Yet even so, she couldn’t help but wonder how Ji Wuqing viewed her… as a practitioner of witchcraft?

“How are we to return tonight?” Ji Wuqing held her weakly, his tone almost petulant.

Was he actually angry?

“If not walking, then crawling, Your Majesty—choose one.” Xuexue retorted, equally vexed.

“Angry, are you? To see you so irate is a first.” Ji Wuqing reached out, gently caressing her face, a trace of comfort in his tone.

Xuexue gripped his hand, only to find it stained deep purple with blood.

His hand was still bleeding, and uncontrollably so!

There was no time for petty squabbles. She undid her cloth belt and tightly bound his wrist. “What is happening? The blood just won’t stop.” She muttered anxiously, her movements increasingly frantic.