So this is what it feels like to truly fall for someone, all at once.

Chapter 087: So You Like It Fierce

A person’s face reflects their heart. The more turbulent Fang Rulai’s heart grew, the more violent the ripples that shimmered in her eyes.

As Guan Shiyin drew closer, his smile grew ever brighter. He had never been a fool—on the contrary, his intelligence was quite remarkable. Ever since he had subdued the little Tenfold Fang Rulai in two moves, and she no longer seemed so violently opposed to his small, affectionate gestures, he had sensed it: this little monk liked things intense.

So, he would show her just how fierce he could be.

He’d deliberately swapped with Banxia for a slightly smaller size of the black water costume—why? Because that way, the contours of his muscles would stand out all the more prominently.

When the so-called village chief from Shijia Village openly expressed his covetousness for Fang Rulai, Guan Shiyin wanted to rush out then and there, but he restrained himself. When Zhou Dashan attacked Fang Rulai with a broken dish, he wanted to dash out again, but still, he held back. He was waiting for the perfect moment—a chance to make the most formidable entrance, a chance to captivate Fang Rulai’s heart with his display of strength.

Finally, Zhou Dashan made his move, and it was a killing blow.

They could never have guessed how exhilarated he’d felt when he sensed all this from beneath the water.

He could have leapt from the water as swiftly and silently as lightning, not even disturbing the surface—but he didn’t. Because that wouldn’t have been impressive, wouldn’t have been fierce enough! Instead, he signaled Banxia to strike the water’s surface from below first. As the mighty column of water erupted skyward, he soared up in its midst.

Suspended in midair, he saw Zhou Dashan within arm’s reach of Fang Rulai. He could have intervened right then, nipping the danger in the bud, but he didn’t. If Fang Rulai didn’t truly feel the terror of death looming, how could she possibly be moved by her savior? Besides, saving her at the final, life-or-death moment would leave a much deeper impression.

He drew his leg and arm back in midair—first, to buy more time for Zhou Dashan to advance, and second, to balance the overwhelming force of the mighty palm he was about to strike, lest he appear too brutal. Moderation was essential, after all.

He focused his eyes on the instant before Zhou Dashan’s hands closed around Fang Rulai’s throat, and then, mustering his inner strength, delivered a grand, resounding palm to Zhou Dashan’s back. Watching Zhou Dashan crash through the table was entirely expected, just as it was expected that Fang Rulai’s eyes would fill with springtime longing. Two out of the three outcomes he had anticipated while underwater had thus come to pass.

Now, it was time for the third.

As he strode past the dining table, a minor guest tried to sneak up and attack. Guan Shiyin didn’t even look back, simply swinging his arm in a wide arc and striking behind him.

With a smack, the would-be assailant was slammed into the deck like a bulbous garlic clove, his backside protruding comically.

The collective gasp grew even louder, and Fang Rulai’s eyes shone all the brighter.

Guan Shiyin’s smile bloomed like a flower.

Every step he took was deliberately heavy, as if Mount Tai itself pressed down with each stride. His inner force still condensed into a palpable aura, not because it was needed, but solely to stoke the growing infatuation he saw in Fang Rulai’s gaze.

At last he stood before her, smiling. She smiled back, her blank stare betraying that she was only unconsciously mirroring him, but he found it utterly delightful.

He knew she was always pure—untainted by the mundane world, almost ethereally rooted—and that very purity sometimes made him want to tie her to his waist, though she always remained just out of reach, leaving him ill at ease. But now, her pure smile was tinged with color—pink, the tender blush of youth; green, the hue of hope; yellow, a warm, comforting gold…

There were many more colors, but he had no time to savor them all.

His beloved stood so near, her smile too precious to waste any more time simply memorizing. He had something far better in mind.

He bent down, cupping her face in his hands. With no stray hair to obscure her features, her exquisite face fit perfectly into his palms.

Cold and hot, the blood pulsing beneath her skin changed with every moment.

“Ru…lai!”

For the first time, he called her by name. The words came naturally, laden with deep affection.

At such close proximity, there was no need for deliberate seduction; his moving lips brushed hers, almost but not quite touching.

It must have tickled a little, for Fang Rulai, still smiling foolishly, instinctively flicked out her tongue to lick her lips.

But she didn’t just graze her own lips—she also brushed his, which were so close.

The familiar, delicate scent of bird’s nest instantly recalled their first kiss on the couch by the window, when that same subtle fragrance had lingered.

Once tasted, one only wants more.

And he was far from sated.

His hands tightened around her face as he opened his mouth, ready to claim her upper lip.

Just then—swish! A white porcelain dish slipped perfectly between their lips.

Guan Shiyin’s temples throbbed. Who dared to interrupt?

Zhu Xishi.

One hand held the dish in place, unmoving, while the other pinched Fang Rulai sharply on the backside.

“Ah!” Fang Rulai shrieked, her senses snapping back to clarity.

“What just happened? Why does my head feel so muddled?” she asked Guan Shiyin, who was busy glaring daggers at Zhu Xishi.

Why did you have to interrupt us?

Zhu Xishi feigned ignorance, and with a flick of the wrist, pressed the dish to Fang Rulai’s lips, making her head jerk back three inches. When Fang Rulai’s attention shifted, Zhu Xishi glanced behind Guan Shiyin—where, in the hollow under the table, Zhou Dashan still lay sprawled.

Fang Rulai blinked, her memories returning. Oh, she had nearly forgotten the main event for the sake of a pretty face.

“Guan—”

Guan Shiyin shot Zhu Xishi one last glare, his expression promising that she’d better remember this, then turned his attention back to Fang Rulai. With a flick, he knocked the dish from her lips, then leaned in, his smile intoxicating.

“My dear, wasn’t that palm just now impressive? And my timing, wasn’t it perfect? So, shouldn’t you consider rewarding your husband with a kiss?”

He hadn’t yet removed his arm from around Fang Rulai’s waist; now he pulled her back in. This time, Guan Shiyin didn’t wait; he dipped his head toward her face.

He wanted his reward! Little Rou Rou had said every senior at the temple received a reward from Fang Rulai for their good deeds.

He puckered his lips and—

He kissed another porcelain dish.

This time, Fang Rulai herself had grabbed a dish and pressed it between them.

Fang Rulai wrenched her arms free, broke out of Guan Shiyin’s embrace, and, with a kick to the table leg, chair and all, slid back two feet.

She stopped and, unable to hide her anger, demanded, “You idiot, did you actually kill him?”—“him” referring to Zhou Dashan.

Thwarted in his attempt at a kiss, Guan Shiyin pouted in grievance and refused to answer.

Fang Rulai peeked under the table, about to explode, when a wailing cry erupted from the lower deck’s entrance.

It was Zhou Lier.

“Cousin!” Zhou Lier, having sensed something amiss above, had sneaked out to take a look, only to witness the tragic sight of Zhou Dashan being knocked under the table.

“Aunt!” At her side was an elderly white-haired woman, stunned into silence by fear.

How could she endure this?

“I’ll fight you all!” Zhou Lier’s eyes blazed red as she snatched the golden ornaments from her hair and hurled them out. The gold pieces transformed into deadly, razor-sharp weapons.

Unfortunately, one of her targets was Guan Shiyin.

Though resentful that Fang Rulai wouldn’t let him kiss her, Guan Shiyin would never abandon her at such a dangerous moment. Besides—wasn’t this yet another chance to show off his strength?

With that thought, he whirled around to shield Fang Rulai.

The sky was now fully dark, and the gold ornaments flashed with murderous light as they shot toward him. Guan Shiyin didn’t dodge; as soon as they neared, he opened his mouth and shouted, “Return!”

His forceful aura sent the gold ornaments flying back, even faster than they’d come.

Zhou Lier shrieked as the rebounding gold pieces pinned her to a pillar, trapping her within a cage of deadly ornaments.

“You shameless scoundrels! If you have any integrity, fight me in a fair duel—” Zhou Lier railed, unable to move.

Fang Rulai calmly handed a plate of lion’s head meatballs to Guan Shiyin. “Good children shouldn’t stay up late. Be quick about it.”

“Alright.” The henpecked Guan Shiyin obediently picked up a meatball and flicked it straight into Zhou Lier’s open mouth.

Silence fell.

Guan Shiyin, catching on, protested, “Hey, my dear, you—”

“Hand me the dagger,” Fang Rulai ordered, tapping the table.

“You—but… alright.” Guan Shiyin, pouting, took Fang Rulai’s hand.

Fang Rulai shook him off, about to scold him. “Try causing trouble again and see what happens.”

Guan Shiyin shrank back, but didn’t explain. He guided her hand, letting her fingers form a claw, palm cupped. A pull and a snap, and the dagger by Zhou Dashan’s hand shot up into Fang Rulai’s grasp.

Without the firelight, the blue glow that had shimmered on the poisoned dagger’s tip was now invisible.

“Light the torches!” Fang Rulai commanded.

At her words, countless flaming arrows shot from the shore. The guests screamed, thinking their doom was upon them, but the arrows all struck the pillars, illuminating the deck without harming a soul.

Fang Rulai’s gaze swept over the dagger’s tip, where the blue glow reappeared. With a flick, she tossed the blade at the guests’ feet.

“Now then—does anyone still want this?”

“No! No!” The crowd chorused, shaking their heads in unison.

Guan Shiyin rested his chin on Fang Rulai’s shoulder, offering a sideline commentary. “Right now, if anyone tries for it, they die first. You think they have the guts? Or the strength?”

The crowd shook their heads again, silently.

Fang Rulai continued, “In that case, the Pingcheng salt route now falls under the command of the Second Prince. Does anyone object?”

The guests glanced at the slain Zhou Dashan, then at the blazing torches and the impenetrable darkness beyond the shore. Quickly, they replied, “No, no.” They were just common folks hoping to make a living. Risking their lives for money was not a bargain they’d ever take.

“Tch,” Guan Shiyin snorted at Fang Rulai’s shoulder. “If you’d decided this sooner, none of this would have happened. Instead, you had to test your luck against the authorities! Typical—won’t cry until you see the coffin.”

The crowd exchanged glances, suddenly alarmed by the implication.

“Yes, from the very start, we knew your true intention was to take the salt route token,” Guan Shiyin announced proudly, swinging his legs.

Village Chief Shi muttered, “Then why did you…”

“Why what? Fall for it anyway?” Guan Shiyin snapped, recognizing the man who had dared to covet his wife. “You think everyone’s as gullible as you? How else could we have gathered all the salt route players in one place?”

“You could’ve assembled us openly with the dagger,” the village chief argued.

“And let you stall with personal excuses while striking from the shadows?” Guan Shiyin suddenly lost interest, fearing further argument would lower his IQ.

“The simplest trap is to turn their own plans against them,” said the white-haired old lady, her voice as cold as her gaze. “Yet not one of us saw through it. Greed truly makes the cleverest of us fools.”

Fang Rulai eyed her warily. “So you still have the sense to be clever again?”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“So long as the Zhou family remains an essential part of the salt route’s logistics, we’ll erase your involvement in this disturbance.”

“You still trust my Zhou family?”

“Will you give me any reason not to?” Fang Rulai countered, glancing at the line of blazing arrows. The threat was clear. The power imbalance was overwhelming—any hint of betrayal could be crushed in an instant.

“Heh,” the old woman sneered. “To borrow your words, you want to get the most for the least. The most legitimate pleasure at the lowest price!”

Instantly, a murderous tension filled the air.

But she showed no fear. “Work for the authorities, take all the risks, and you reap the profits. Any mistake on our part means death. Give us a chance to be clever? No! The Zhou family would rather play the fool. We can forgo the money. We won’t work for the authorities for free!”

Guan Shiyin flicked his ear, snapping his finger; the torch arrows on that side extinguished.

“Are you sure?”

“Humph.” The old woman ignored him, looking instead to the other guests. “Do you see? This is the face of tyranny! You think submission guarantees a peaceful old age? Look at what happened to Dashan! You’d better hope you never make a single mistake, or you’ll be the next to die.”

Guan Shiyin’s fingers cracked ominously. “Or maybe you won’t even live long enough to make a mistake. You’ll be joining Zhou Dashan on the Yellow Springs road tonight.”

“Go ahead—kill us,” she challenged, head high, her gaze fierce but tears glimmering in her eyes. “If death is inevitable, we might as well die together now and be reborn as a family! But for my Zhou family to serve the murderers of my son—I cannot.”

Guan Shiyin shrugged off her words. “Don’t think I won’t do it!”

“You won’t,” she retorted. “If you meant to kill us, you’d have done so when we first gathered on this boat. But you didn’t, because if the salt route loses any one of us, it may collapse. You seek allies for the Second Prince, not obstacles. You staged this whole charade out of caution, didn’t you?”

The guests were shaken—so they, too, were considered threats…

The old woman’s cold laughter was now for herself alone. Kill my son? I’ll make sure you never trust your own allies! As long as there’s a hint of disloyalty, the Zhou family’s vengeance will be swift.

Guan Shiyin was silent for a long moment. Just as the old woman began to think her words had struck home and that a bloodbath was imminent, Fang Rulai spoke up.

[Author’s note: Thanks to dear readers Chao Jinlu Kui, Stinky Egg Haha, and Wind and Cloud 191 for the encouragement, mwah~ Did everyone have a happy day yesterday? Did you make your sweethearts pay for your tangyuan? It’s the one day a year you can rightfully do so! Of course, I hope you all have someone to treat you every day—keep it up! Also: I’m rewatching “Legend of Dance and Music” for the second time, and once again, I’m overwhelmed by the writer-director’s intellect… sob, I want to write such intricately woven plots too… Cumberbatch, save me!]

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