Wei Cheng held the sword in his hand and held the man's jaw with his other hand. With a "clack" sound, the man's jaw was dislocated and he screamed "Uh-huh".
The poison sac originally held in his mouth fell out.
"Who sent you?"
His tone was sinister.
"Say!" He increased the strength on his hands, and there were a few small "click" sounds, which were the sounds of broken bones.
The man was sweating profusely in pain, but he couldn't struggle. He could only gasp and answer inarticulately: "Yes...yes..."
Stuttering means not finishing a sentence.
Not far away, Wei Ning's expression changed drastically, and he suddenly shouted: "Young Master, be careful!"
Wei Cheng's heart sank, and he raised his sword and stabbed back without hesitation.
The dagger in Shen Yinxiao's hand fell to the ground, and the blade was inserted less than three inches away from the tip of the toe. The blood on the dagger smeared on the sand, dark as ink. Under the vast moonlight, the woman's small face was pale. His lips lost color, his pupils shrank suddenly, and he looked at him in panic.
Hanzhang's sword edge stopped at her jade-colored throat. The next moment, a drop of blood came out, followed by the second drop, and the third drop...
Wei Cheng's eyes suddenly turned cold, like polar ice, and he stared at her intently.
Shen Yinxiao was already frightened by the sudden thrust of the sword, but she immediately discovered that Wei Cheng's eyes at this moment were even more horrifying, actually a bit sharper and colder than the sword.
It seemed that if she moved again, the Hanzhang Sword would penetrate her throat like an assassin's.
"Young Master, Madam Shen wants to help you!" Wei Ning was horrified. If the sword had been an inch longer, Shen Yinxiao would have been killed on the spot. He immediately reminded him without caring about etiquette.
Wei Cheng's hand froze, and without Wei Ning's reminder, he soon saw the assassin stabbing the woman's legs and back several times.
The assassin held a knife in his hand, his eyes widened, and he was in disbelief before he died.
His stiff back relaxed.
For some reason, he suddenly let out a long sigh of relief and felt a sense of joy in his heart.
I don't know whether he was glad that Hanzhang's sword was an inch shorter, or that he was not the one Shen Yinxiao wanted to kill.
If Shen Yinxiao really wanted to kill him, he might actually stab him with that sword.
This fact was a little cold, but for a moment many possibilities flashed through his mind, and he knew he would.
Fortunately not.
Shen Yinxiao remained silent, standing stiffly like a cat with fried hair, not daring to move. Although the wound in his throat was small, the sword was sharp, and the blood beads formed a line and penetrated from the neck into the collar. .
It looks awkward and pitiful.
He retracted his sword, did not look at her anymore, turned around, his patience in interrogating the prisoner suddenly disappeared, threw the assassin in his hand to the ground, and kicked Wei Ning.
"Take him back for trial!" The man's voice was cold and deep.
Wei Ning was a little confused and was almost hit by the oncoming assassin. He didn't know why Wei Cheng suddenly became so angry.
"Get in the carriage first and wait for someone to come." He wiped the blood on the sword with the clothes of the assassin's corpse at his feet, sheathed the sword, turned around and gave Shen Yinxiao a faint order.
Shen Yinxiao looked at the man who walked quickly back to the car without looking back. She lowered her eyes. The cold wind in the wild blew her heart. She tightened her collar and followed him.
In the messy carriage, Wei Cheng had already cleared a space, tore off the lining of his clothes, and tore it into a long and thin strip of cloth.
Shen Yinxiao opened the curtain and went in, found the fire folding piece, picked up the extinguished candle lamp that had fallen to the ground, lit it, and with Xiwei's light, she discovered that Wei Cheng's right hand had also been scratched several inches long on the back. Blood dripped down the back of his hand from the incision, soaking through the cuffs and soaking the felt on the ground.
A strand of hair, neither long nor short, slipped from his originally meticulous hair and stuck to his damp forehead. A small drop of sweat ran along his full forehead and across the bridge of his handsome nose, reflected in the dim light. His pale profile and the crow-green shadow under his thick eyelashes gave the brave and courageous man a rare hint of femininity and frailty.
Shen Yinxiao was suffocating in his heart. He turned his head and looked at the dark autumn scenery outside the window. He even sat far away from him.
The male lust in front of her was not enough to calm her down. She even wished that those assassins could give him a few more blows to make him suffer enough. Anyway, he was rough-skinned and thick-bodied.
The sound of clothing being torn was clear and harsh.
A suppressed groan came, and Shen Yinxiao frowned and turned his head.
The torn strip of cloth hung at the corner of his clothes, and the last bit was connected with fine stitches. It was very laborious to tear it off. As he exerted force on his right hand, the blood on the back of his hand came out faster and more.
Shen Yinxiao looked at it silently for a long time. Perhaps due to the exertion, Wei Cheng's pale face gained some color.
She silently stretched out her hand, pinched the wrist of his injured hand, took his hand away, pinched the corner of his clothes with one hand, and pulled hard with the other, pulling off the cloth strip.
She squeezed his hand and wrapped the cloth around his injured hand, but he held it with his backhand and pulled away the cloth with one hand. He gently pulled Shen Yinxiao closer to him. Close together.
Wei Cheng casually wiped the back of his hand on his sleeve, wiping away the blood on his hand, and then wrapped a cloth strip around her neck, round and round, until the blood on her neck could no longer be seen. Finally, she tied an awkward bow on the side of her neck.
Their breaths intertwined, and the warm and moist breath hit her ears. She pursed her lips and remained silent.
"It hurts and I don't even know how to say a word." Wei Cheng said firmly, "Are you mute?"
The man's jaw is sharply defined, and the dancing candlelight casts a shadow on his tense jaw, all the way to the protruding Adam's apple, which is vaguely hidden in the shadows, creating a subtle temptation.
Shen Yinxiao gritted his teeth, turned his head, and said in a low voice: "Do you want to kill me or Lan Xi?"
"Or do you want to get rid of us together?"
Wei Cheng casually pressed his sleeve on the wound on the back of his hand. He had already thought of several candidates for the murderer behind the scenes, but he was not sure yet and had to wait and see the results of the interrogation.
Beigong Lanxi followed Beigong Boyu back, but the assassin just now knew clearly that there was a woman in the car and was fully prepared to wait on the road.
Shen Yinxiao was always kind to others and would not make enemies easily. He had a vague name in mind, but did not say it. He just shook his head: "Maybe he wants to kill you, but I'm not sure yet. It depends on the outcome of the interrogation."
Shen Yinxiao's face turned pale.
Wei Cheng also felt that he wanted to kill her.
This time the person behind the scenes didn't kill her, but what about next time? This time she was lucky enough to ride in the same carriage as Wei Cheng. Will she have such good luck next time?
She took a silent breath and finally asked the question she had always wanted to ask.
"What if Wang Yuanjun wants to kill me?"
Wei Cheng frowned and looked up at her.
