Chapter Twenty-Nine: Zilin, Don’t Take Advantage of Me!

Mu Xinmi’s expression was dazed, as though she had just undergone a great upheaval. Her face alternated between flushes of red and shades of green; her recent tears had left her makeup slightly smudged, the area around her eyes ringed in black, yet soon enough her cheeks flared red once more, set ablaze by Feng Xiaoli’s pointed words that had struck at her heart. The flush was startling, and at last her gaze sharpened with a fierce glint, an intense fire rising in her eyes. Her beauty, though marred, had grown colder and more remote than before. There’s a saying: it is easy to be deceived by a person’s expressions, but if you look into their eyes, you will always know their true thoughts. For the eyes, after all, cannot lie.

Feng Xiaoli realized then that Mu Xinmi was utterly consumed by jealousy and resentment toward her. But so what? She would do as she pleased, regardless of Mu Xinmi’s feelings. If they could not be friends, then enemies they would be. There was still Yu Wenhao between them, but to be honest, Feng Xiaoli wouldn’t mind at all if Mu Xinmi took him away. She would gladly see the engagement broken off with a clean snap, and would even bring lavish gifts to Mu Xinmi’s door, smiling and thanking her from the depths of her heart.

Mu Xinmi bit her lower lip and forced herself to speak, her voice strained and hesitant. What else could she do but struggle to get the words out?

“Miss Li, I shall take my leave.” She hoped Feng Xiaoli would nod, managing a difficult twitch of her lips—she had meant to smile, but whether she did or not hardly mattered to Feng Xiaoli, for the attempt looked more ghastly than tears, uglier than indifference. Either way, she was merely donning another mask to face the world.

She walked forward, her steps slightly unsteady, as if a soft breeze might topple her at any moment. Her figure was graceful enough for such a thing to be possible. The gentle wind rippled across the lake, sending delicate waves shimmering across the water. Feng Xiaoli’s expression grew taut, and in an instant, several figures clad in black appeared.

This time, there were only three—few in number, but skilled assassins needed neither numbers nor noise. This ambush would not be as easy to escape as those before.

And now there was another complication—she was not alone. Sure enough, from her vantage point, Feng Xiaoli could see Mu Xinmi’s terrified reaction at the sight of the masked intruders. She screamed, her face drained of color. Of course, Feng Xiaoli would not stand by and watch her die. With a light touch of her toes, she leapt forward and sent Mu Xinmi’s body spinning wildly—her balance lost, Mu Xinmi toppled headlong into the lake.

Among the noble families of Huaijing, few daughters were schooled in the art of swimming, and Mu Xinmi could only thrash helplessly in the water. The lake was not deep, but it never occurred to her to save herself; she simply waited for someone else to rescue her. Feng Xiaoli itched to dive in after her—at least in her presence, Mu Xinmi could not be allowed to die. Her death would be far too troublesome.

But the men in black seemed to sense her intentions, fanning out in a three-pronged formation to surround her. Mu Xinmi’s struggles in the water continued, and with the assassins’ formidable skills, Feng Xiaoli suddenly felt powerless.

Abruptly, something tightened around her waist, and in a blink, she vanished from the assassins’ sight.

The leader of the black-clad men barked coldly, “She can’t have gone far. After her!”

What they could never have guessed was that Feng Xiaoli was at that very moment concealed in someone’s arms, hidden among the branches of a nearby tree. Someone, utterly shameless, had wrapped an arm tight around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. Feng Xiaoli didn’t need to look to know who it was—who else but the incorrigible, outrageously shameless, ultimate scoundrel Zilin? Who else would seize every opportunity, from their very first meeting, to act so intimately with her?

So, let’s just call him the Scoundrel.

“Zilin, let go of me!” Feng Xiaoli tried to pry his hands away, only to discover how stubborn this man was—no sooner had she loosened his grip than his hands would clamp tight again, leaving her no room to escape.

He put on a pitiful, aggrieved look, his voice low and seductive: “Li’er, what right does Mu Xinmi have to even speak with you? Is she more beautiful than I am? Is her figure more alluring? Are her muscles as strong as mine? Li’er, believe me—I am your best possible choice!”

“Choice? Zilin, stop being so self-absorbed and pathetic, would you? Has anyone ever told you that despite your face being prettier than most women’s, you’ve also got a punchable look? If I weren’t so weak right now, I’d have already socked you in the eye to see how well you seduce innocent girls after that!”

She jabbed her elbow into his side, but he deftly blocked the blow.

Zilin, looking even more wronged than before, protested, “Now that’s unfair, Li’er. When have I ever tried to seduce innocent girls? From childhood to now, I’ve only tried to seduce you—and failed! In fact, you’re the one who bewitched me and stole my soul. Don’t you think you should take responsibility?”

“Responsibility, my foot!” This time Feng Xiaoli kicked him. “When did I ever seduce you? Just because you got hurt and lost a bit of flesh, you want me to take responsibility? I’ve never done anything to you! Zilin, stop making a fool of yourself—if you push me too far, I’ll make you regret it!”

“Exactly, Li’er—I’m shamelessly begging you to want me. If you’re angry or upset, you can hit me, kick me, bite me, whatever you please—or kiss me, lick me, take me, it’s all fine. As long as you’re happy, I’ll do anything for you!”

“Really?” Feng Xiaoli’s eyes lit up at his words.

“Of course it’s true! I, Zilin, never lie. Whatever you want me to do right now, I’ll do it!”

“Then let go of me. Don’t put your hands on my waist, don’t get close to me, and right now, disappear from my sight and don’t show up in front of me again!”

“Uh…” Zilin hesitated. “Anything but that! I absolutely refuse to stop liking you, Li’er. If I leave, those assassins will surely come after you. For your safety, I must hold you tight, keep my hands on your waist, stay close, and never disappear from your sight—not even if I die!” Zilin declared with conviction.

If the person before him were an ordinary woman, such words might have moved her to tears and made her throw herself into his arms. But Feng Xiaoli was no ordinary woman. Hearing this, she only looked at him with greater contempt. This man was too fake, too narcissistic, completely untrustworthy. She lamented her own foolishness for ever believing the words of such a fool.

The arm around her waist tightened even more.

“Zilin, stop taking advantage of me!” she yelled.

Zilin only made a mysterious “shh,” whispering, “Li’er, you must understand—this is a man’s natural response when he sees a woman in danger. Would you have me stand by and watch you get bullied? How could I ever be your husband if I did that? Li’er, don’t glare at me like that or I’ll think you truly hate me and wish me dead, cut to pieces!”

From a branch on another tree, Shadow, waiting in the wings, was left speechless by Zilin’s words. Young master, that was truly astonishing—can’t you see the fire blazing in Miss Li’s eyes? She genuinely looks like she wants to kill you!