In her previous life, Ning Yin always liked to kill on rainy days.
At first, Yu Lingxi thought it was some kind of mysterious ritual, but later she learned that he killed purely because his leg injury hurt unbearably on rainy days, putting him in a bad mood.
That day, amid thunderstorms, Hu Tao accidentally broke Ning Yin’s customary glass cup.
Ning Yin’s knuckles tapping on the table paused, and he slowly opened his eyes.
Yu Lingxi knew then that he had killing intent.
Without much thought, she approached him, speaking in sweet, soft tones, clumsily trying to distract Ning Yin’s attention.
Ning Yin grabbed her neck, his fingers cold without a trace of warmth, his face as pale as death, as if only fresh blood could add a touch of color to him.
At that moment, Yu Lingxi thought she was doomed.
But when he touched the warm skin of her neck, the iron-like force eased somewhat.
Ning Yin’s slightly upturned eyes were black and cold, and his gripping hand gradually changed to caressing, as if puzzled how such a fragile woman could have such burning warmth.
He placed his other hand on her as well, so cold it made Yu Lingxi’s hair stand on end.
“Take off your clothes,” he commanded coldly.
Yu Lingxi, strongly resisting the urge to run away, removed her garments, hesitantly using her body heat to warm Ning Yin, whose leg ailment had flared up.
For the first time, she had correctly guessed the madman’s thoughts.
When she kissed him, his jaw was still trembling slightly, biting through her lips and neck.
Yu Lingxi massaged him to relieve his pain, doing her utmost to please him.
Finally exhausted, she fell asleep, and when she woke, Ning Yin was still tightly embracing her body for warmth, his strong arms nearly breaking her slender waist, her entire body bent like a bow.
That was the only time Ning Yin had shown anything resembling “vulnerability,” but it stayed with Yu Lingxi for a long time.
Perhaps because Ning Yin was a person who never showed weakness, able to maintain composure even with a blade piercing his chest, so insane he almost lacked the five senses.
So she was curious about what kind of bone-deep, heart-gnawing pain could make him endure sleepless nights with a trembling jaw.
Was his leg… broken like this?
Yu Lingxi’s pupils trembled, memories and reality overlapping, with some answer emerging.
With no time to think further, she called out shakily: “Qing Xiao! What are you all standing around for?”
The crisp, delicate shout echoed through the air as crows flew across the sky.
The dark-skinned man turned in surprise. Qing Xiao’s sword flew from his hand, cutting the thug’s wrist. The iron hammer dropped to the ground, splashing water drops that reflected cold light in mid-air.
Immediately, two other Yu household guards leaped out from behind Qing Xiao, blocking the curved blades of the other two thugs.
In that moment, time seemed infinitely stretched.
A gust of wind arose, lifting the light veil of the veiled hat, revealing the charming young lady’s stern eyes.
She held an expensive gold-braided horsewhip, wrapped in precious moon-white fox fur, standing in this hellish place that was utterly mismatched with her, so clean she seemed to glow.
And the weak, disheveled youth lying in the muddy water, blood seeping from the corner of his lips, his dark eyes half-open, thus meeting those beautiful almond eyes across the space.
Ah, it’s her.