diymy Chapter 72 Kidnapping
Chapter 72 Kidnapping
Chapter 72 Kidnapping
The copper hairpin hung in mid-air, but Jingni did not catch it.
Zhao Heng simply held the hairpin by the end, the tip pointing towards himself, and presented it horizontally to Jing Ni. He neither pulled it back nor urged her, just held it up like that, showing no sign of panic whatsoever. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought he was handing over a flower that had just been picked from a tree.
The hairpin still bore traces of blood, its surface gleaming dimly in the fading sunlight of late afternoon, gradually darkening from the tip to the tip, resembling a rusted copper strip.
Jing Ni's pale white dance dress fluttered gently in the wind, shimmering with a soft, warm hue in the setting sun. Her beautiful eyes, hidden behind a veil, were fixed on the hairpin in Zhao Heng's hand, yet seemed not to be looking at it at all; her brows were slightly furrowed, as if she were deep in thought.
The shouts were getting closer and closer outside the courtyard wall.
Someone was shouting, "This side courtyard!" and someone else was responding, "Search carefully!" The responses rose and fell, like echoes in a valley. Footsteps were hurried and louder. Interspersed among them were the occasional clanging of weapons and a few sharp, short screams in the distance, like the crowing of a rooster that had been cut off.
The guards are searching one place after another. They are at most a few dozen steps away from this side courtyard. After passing about three or four more courtyards, they will reach this place.
Zhao Heng turned his head and glanced towards the Moon Gate before looking back at Jing Ni, simply pushing the hairpin forward a little further.
Jing Ni paused for a moment. She looked at the hairpin, then casually tossed aside the long knife in her hand and stepped forward to take the bronze hairpin.
Her fingers, hidden in her sleeve, were long and slender, with rounded tips. They didn't look like the hands of an assassin, but rather like the hands of a young lady who soaked them in goat's milk every day.
After taking the hairpin, she gently stroked it with her fingertip. Without any apparent effort, a very faint white mist rose from the hairpin, and the scabs, debris, and stains peeled away in the mist, restoring the hairpin to its original bluish-yellow color. It was completely clean, without even a trace of blood.
After doing all this, she put the copper hairpin into her sleeve.
Zhao Heng watched this scene without uttering a sound. He had personally witnessed someone who could project their inner energy to such an extent, creating objects from a distance.
He didn't know if she was deliberately showing off to scare him, or if it was just an ordinary action of hers, as natural as him picking up a teacup.
However, Jing Ni may not be that bored.
The distant voices grew closer. Her earlobes were small and bare, white as pearls. With a turn of her head, she could clearly discern the direction, number of people, and distance of the distant sounds.
"If you were to kill me now, you could easily silence me."
Zhao then said, "If you only wanted to complete the mission, you could have simply watched me die here and returned to Lord Xinling's side to lie low. But you insisted on making your move."
Outside the courtyard wall, the shouts grew closer. Someone yelled, "There are still thieves over here!" Immediately, footsteps surged in that direction, thumping and thumping like drums, accompanied by shouts of "Catch them alive!" that grew louder and louder, crashing against the courtyard wall.
Zhao Heng paused, waiting for the footsteps to fade into the distance before continuing, "It's clear that you, young lady, aren't entirely without ideas about the Net's arrangements."
Jingni finally turned her head, but she still didn't say anything, just waited quietly for him to continue, as if waiting for him to reveal his cards one by one.
Unexpectedly, Zhao Heng fell silent again. He wiped the bloodstains from his hands, walked back to the well curb, and sat down. He then took off his outer robe, which was torn in several places. The shoulders and ribs were soaked with blood, and the fabric was stiff and clung to his skin. He draped the robe over his knees, tore off two relatively clean pieces of cloth, one to wrap around his shoulders and the other to tie around his ribs.
The man was a young nobleman, and the wounds on his shoulder and ribs were already bleeding, staining his robes a deep red. He didn't utter a sound.
What's even stranger is that his movements were surprisingly practiced; he wrapped the cloth strips, tied them, and adjusted the tightness in one smooth motion, as if he had done it many times before. However, when he tore the cloth strips, it aggravated the wound on his shoulder, causing him to frown slightly and pause for a moment before continuing.
Seeing this, Jingni didn't urge him immediately, whether out of reluctance or embarrassment, she didn't know. She looked at his hand bandaging the wound, paused for a moment, and then looked away.
"The gentleman lay low by Lord Xinling's side."
A fine layer of sweat beaded on Zhao Heng's forehead, but he simply tightened the bandages around his ribs and looked up, saying, "It could take several months, several years, or even five or ten years. During this time, you cannot be exposed, and you cannot make a mistake. Day after day, you must play the role of a dancer, a concubine. Every day, you must dress in front of the mirror, practice dancing and playing the zither, and serve by my side. Furthermore, all your martial arts skills must be hidden, and all your abilities must not be revealed. The only thing you have to do is wait."
He looked at Jingni, but saw that her face showed almost no emotion. Her veil covered most of her face, revealing only her eyes.
For a moment, Zhao Heng even had some doubts.
But she must be listening.
"Although Guo Kai has placed you by Lord Xinling's side, how things will succeed and when they will succeed are not up to him," Zhao Heng continued. "Therefore, you can only wait for an opportunity that may not appear for who knows when."
"Once those around Lord Xinling have relaxed their guard, once he truly treats you as just an ordinary concubine, and in the dead of night, he will strike you down with a single sword stroke. Even then, you, sir, may not be able to escape unscathed."
The courtyard was quiet. The shouts of battle in the distance had faded, leaving only occasional shouts, like echoes from a distant valley, intermittent and faint.
A gentle breeze blew by, fluttering Jingni's sash. The pale white ribbon swayed lightly in the air, like a butterfly that couldn't find a place to rest.
He looked at Jingni's eyes and brows peeking out from behind her veil. Her eyes were indeed exceptionally beautiful, with slightly upturned corners, clear and picturesque contours, eyebrows like distant mountains shrouded in mist, and thick, curled eyelashes.
It's a pity they lack emotion; they're like two exquisitely polished jade stones—beautiful, yes, but devoid of life.
So he casually remarked, "Judging from your appearance, you must be no more than sixteen or seventeen. You're probably not much older than me. Should I call you 'elder sister' then? Ah, you truly are in the prime of your youth."
His tone was languid, but before he could finish speaking, he felt a cold gaze fall on his face.
Jingni's eyes seemed to twitch with anger. A sharp glint suddenly flashed in her usually calm eyes, like a sword blade flashing in the candlelight.
She seemed impatient with Zhao Heng's rambling, annoyed by his excessive chatter. But it vanished in an instant, the anger dissipating before it could even take shape. She finally spoke, her voice clear yet cold: "What exactly do you want to say?"
"
"Although you are an assassin, with your skills, are you really willing to waste several years of your youth on such a person?"
Zhao Heng shook his head and stood up with an air of maturity.
He braced himself against the well railing, using the momentum to straighten up. This movement aggravated the wound between his ribs. The pain caused his brow to furrow abruptly, and his lips to twitch. Fortunately, he didn't grimace; his voice paused, his brow furrowing slightly before he sighed, "Whether it succeeds or not is still uncertain. Even if it succeeds, where will the next mission be for the Net? Who will be the next target? What will their next identity be? Will this young lady's life be just one mission after another, until one day she fails and dies a violent death far from home?"
He paused, raised his head, and looked at Jingni earnestly. His eyes were bright, gleaming amber in the setting sun, truly sincere, without calculation or cunning, only the almost naive earnestness of a young man.
"Or is it that you've never thought about this question, sir?"
Jing Ni's brows furrowed slightly, but it was so subtle that Zhao Heng wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't taken the opportunity to stare into her eyes.
But she quickly reverted to her indifferent demeanor, turning her head away from him and saying, "This is none of your business."
To be honest, Zhao Heng's constant staring at her made her a little unhappy.
How could a noble prince be so rude?
His gaze was frank and direct, like a knife without a sheath, falling on her face without any concealment, wandering between her eyebrows, nose, and neck, without any scruples or avoidance.
And tell me, is this guy really not afraid of death? He didn't even blink when a knife was held to his neck, but now he's staring at an assassin's face, as if he's forgotten that she kills without blinking an eye.
Zhao Heng was not deterred by her coldness, but shook his head with great regret: "Of course it matters. If you agree to my request, things will change."
Jingni's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, but she quickly regained her indifferent expression.
She began pacing back and forth in the courtyard, her footsteps light and almost silent, her pale white skirt brushing silently across the ground like a drifting cloud. She took a few steps, paused, then took a few more, as if trying to discern the truth of Zhao Heng's words, or perhaps weighing something.
Zhao Heng didn't follow her gaze. He pressed his fingers against the edge of the wound on his ribs, gently pressing his fingertips against the flesh to check for any bone damage. After confirming there were no signs of breakage, he breathed a sigh of relief, tore off a piece of his inner garment, and continued to tighten the wound. The strip of cloth was wrapped around his waist twice, pulled taut, and knotted.
"What Luo Wang gives the girl is a road with no end," he said, his hands still moving. "What I give her is a deal with a predictable end."
Jingni stopped in her tracks.
"You helped my father return home, and I will help you complete your mission. How you explain things to Luo Wang after it's done is none of my concern. But at least this mission won't take up several years of your life."
Zhao Heng tightened the cloth strips, tied a knot, and finally stopped the bleeding. He looked down at his masterpiece, nodded in satisfaction, and then looked up, but this time his head spun and his vision went black for a moment.
He had lost too much blood; his face was as white as paper, and his lips had lost all color. He had no choice but to retreat and sit back down by the well curb, bracing himself against the stone railing with both hands.
"And as you just heard, young lady, Yan Dan was abducted, and the Pingyuan Lord's residence is in chaos. From today onwards, Handan City will be on high alert. Lord Xinling now has a dancer of unknown origin by his side. Do you think he won't investigate? Furthermore, if something happens to me, Zhao Yan will be the first to be suspected. As the beautiful concubine offered up by Zhao Yan, do you think you can escape responsibility?"
He paused for a moment, looked at Jingni, and said, "Why don't you consider the matter more carefully, young lady?"
Jingni stood before the moon gate, her back to him. Her back was straight, her shoulders and back curving smoothly, tapering slightly at the waist, as slender as a sheathed sword. The light white dance dress was made of thin fabric, and the sunlight shining from the west gilded her silhouette with a soft edge.
The light flowed along her shoulders, waist, and legs, outlining a beautiful arc.
The voices were already very close.
Zhao Heng could hear hurried footsteps approaching from more than one person. Interspersed among them was a woman's voice, urgent and anxious, speaking rapidly. He couldn't make out the exact words from the distance, but her tone was urgent.
Jingni naturally heard it too. She looked at the sunlight on the horizon.
The sun was setting, and she remained silent for a long time before turning around to look at Zhao Heng.
Zhao Heng's expression turned serious. He quickly placed his hands on his knees, sat up straight, and looked solemn and sincere. His demeanor was far more proper than before.
"You're quite shrewd for your age," Jingni suddenly said calmly, her tone ambiguous, neither praising nor criticizing.
Upon hearing this, Zhao Heng's heart skipped a beat.
It wasn't the content of her words, but rather the way she spoke. As she spoke, the edge of her veil twitched slightly, like a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.
This kid has been rambling on and on. Is it because I don't know he's playing a procrastination game?
Before Zhao Heng could react, Jing Ni had already moved.
She took a step in front of him and instantly grabbed his shoulder. Her hand didn't look very strong, but the moment it gripped him, Zhao Heng felt his shoulder blades being tightly bound by a force.
Zhao Heng's brows furrowed suddenly, and his whole body tensed up almost instinctively, causing blood to seep from the wound on his shoulder.
Jing Ni glanced down at the spot where she was gripping her fingers. Blood seeped through her fingers, drawing dark red lines on the back of her pale fingers. She frowned, then released her grip.
Before Zhao Heng could react, he felt a tightness around his waist.
Jingni's right arm slipped under his ribs, wrapped around his waist, and then lifted him up. She didn't care about shoulders anymore, and simply pulled him close.
In an instant, Zhao Heng was pulled into Jing Ni's arms.
Through the thin white dance costume, he could feel the curve of her body from her ribs to her waist. The fabric of the costume was so thin that it offered almost no barrier, and he could almost feel the warmth of her waist. She had a very faint fragrance, but it didn't smell like cosmetics; it was more like the scent of some indescribable flowers and herbs.
"Girl, this is..."
She only finished speaking. Jing Ni pushed off the ground, lifting him into the air.
The courtyard walls, bamboo groves, and the eaves of the covered corridor—all the scenery vanished in an instant, turning into blurry patches of color that rushed past on either side of his vision. A gust of wind rushed into Zhao Heng's mouth and nose, silencing the rest of his sentence.
For the first time, Zhao Heng felt like a rabbit being lifted up by an eagle, limbs dangling in the air, powerless and helpless, only able to let the eagle carry him across the sky and earth.
Zhao Heng was pulled close to Jing Ni, his entire body pressed against hers. He turned his head to the side, and only a corner of her veil could be seen being lifted by the wind. Below, a small section of her fair neck was exposed, her skin as delicate as jade, glowing faintly in the twilight.
Her breathing was so steady it barely rose or fell, and her heartbeat was inaudible. Only her arms around his waist were neither too tight nor too loose, just enough to keep him immobile.
What's most amazing is that she moves with incredible lightness. Her toes barely touch the roof tiles before she leaps several feet away, and the sound of her clothes rustling through the air is extremely short and soft, like a fallen leaf brushing against the water's surface.
The wind whistled in his ears. Zhao Heng closed his eyes.
Ugh.