Reborn Song Qingshu: Besieging Bright Peak at the Start

The leader of the Yuan soldiers grinned and reached out his hairy hand to grab Zhao Min's clothes.

A cold glint flashed in Zhao Min's eyes, and her right hand, which was holding the folding fan, turned slightly, revealing a few sharp, cold rays of light between the fan ribs.

Her folding fan appeared to be made of bamboo and wood, but in reality, the fan ribs contained a hidden mechanism that, once popped out, would reveal a steel blade as sharp as a dagger.

She had been taught by a strange person since childhood. Although she had never shown her martial arts skills to outsiders, she was in fact far beyond the reach of these ordinary soldiers.

Her fan was already slightly raised, and the blade was already aimed at the person's throat.

With just a slight flick of the wrist, a bloody hole will appear in this person's throat.

however--

Just as she was about to make her move, she suddenly felt a large hand firmly wrap around her waist from behind.

The force was neither too strong nor too weak, but carried a burning warmth that was clearly imprinted on her skin through the thin silk garment.

Zhao Min felt as if she had been struck by lightning; her whole body trembled violently, her mind went blank for a moment, and she almost dropped the folding fan from her hand.

From a young age, she was high above others. Even her closest maids had to be careful when changing her clothes. Apart from her father and brothers, no one dared to touch her.

What's more, being held around the waist by a man?

Before she could react, her body felt light, and she was swept away by the person.

She bumped into a broad and solid chest from behind, and even through two layers of clothing, she could feel the strong heartbeat beneath that chest.

A soft, gentle whisper brushed against her ear, warm breath caressing the most sensitive skin behind her ear. The voice was deep and resolute, like a whisper to a frightened child:

"Don't be afraid, I'll protect you."

Zhao Min suddenly came to her senses and abruptly raised her head.

What comes into view is a profile with well-defined features.

He had a straight nose and a well-defined jawline. His eyes were now focused and calmly gazing ahead, devoid of any trace of the mischievousness and frivolity he had shown when teasing her earlier. Instead, they held a chilling calmness and sharpness.

His expression was domineering, decisive, and devoid of any smile, as if the lecherous scoundrel from just moments before was not the same person at all.

It was Song Qingshu.

At the very moment he pulled Zhao Min back, he kicked the ground with his right foot, sending pebbles flying like cannonballs, hitting one of them squarely.

The Yuan soldier was immediately killed and fell to the ground.

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At the same time, he drew his long sword from his waist with his left hand, poured in the Nine Yang internal energy, and threw it out suddenly.

The longsword flashed through the air like lightning, piercing the heart of the Yuan soldier in front of it, the tip protruding through his back, accompanied by a cloud of blood mist.

The Yuan soldier was still in the posture of reaching out to grab Zhao Min, but he was already nailed to the horse's back. When he fell to the ground, his eyes were still rolling around in confusion.

Seeing his two companions die instantly, the rider behind panicked and cried out, turning his horse around to flee in another direction.

However, just as he turned his horse around, he heard a soft hissing sound, and an iron lotus seed was flicked from Yang Xiao's fingertip, hitting his temple squarely.

The Yuan soldier swayed on his horse and slid off softly, without even having a chance to cry out.

In the distance, the Eight Heroes of Divine Archery had already shot the last fleeing Yuan soldier off his horse.

Zhao Yishang habitually glanced in the direction of Liu Yin to confirm that the princess was safe and sound.

This sweep caused his entire body to freeze for a moment.

The princess was being half-embraced in the arms of that glib-tongued man in blue.

The seven brothers behind Zhao Yishang followed his gaze and their expressions changed instantly.

The eight men's glares nearly turned Song Qingshu into a sieve, and they immediately spurred their horses toward them.

Song Qingshu lowered his head, his gaze falling on the person in his arms.

The two pressed tightly together, their breaths mingling and mingling, warm against each other's skin.

He felt the softness in his arms; her waist was so slender it could be grasped in one hand, and he could feel the smoothness and warmth of her skin even through the silk robe.

A faint, delicate fragrance lingered around my nose, like the scent of fresh grass after rain mixed with the subtle aroma of orchids.

In both his lifetimes, he had never smelled such a pleasant scent on any woman.

His heart fluttered slightly, and the fingers on her waist unconsciously pinched her gently.

It is incredibly soft, as if it has no bones.

Zhao Min shuddered violently, as if she had been scalded, her entire body tensing up from head to toe.

Her breathing immediately became erratic, causing her chest to rise and fall slightly.

Her face, which was even whiter than the white jade folding fan in her hand, was now as red as a boiled shrimp shell, burning from her cheeks all the way to her ears.

Her lips were tightly pursed, and her expression—a mixture of shame, anger, and an inability to break free—was far more vivid and lively than that of the composed and elegant young nobleman she had been before.

Song Qingshu's gaze froze, and his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.

The sound of swallowing seemed to suddenly wake Zhao Min.

She shoved Song Qingshu away, staggered back two steps before regaining her balance, looked up at him with shame and indignation, and said, "You...you...who told you to save me...?"

She tried to make her tone sound fierce, but the voice that came out of her trembling throat was soft and intimidating, sounding more like she was being coquettish.

She realized it herself, and became even more ashamed and indignant. She couldn't even speak anymore, and could only bite her lower lip tightly, staring fiercely at Song Qingshu with her eyes that seemed to say "You just wait."

This scene caused a sudden uproar within the Ming Cult's ranks.

Zhou Dian was the first to jump out, his eyes darting back and forth between Song Qingshu and Zhao Min, clapping his hands loudly and shouting at the top of his lungs:

"Oh my! A hero saves the damsel in distress! A hero saves the damsel in distress! Isn't this a scene only told by storytellers? I, Old Zhou, have actually witnessed it with my own eyes today!"

Peng Yingyu, unusually, set aside her monastic solemnity, clasped her hands together, and wore a kind and benevolent smile, but the words she spoke had nothing to do with a Buddhist monk:

"Amitabha! Young Master Song, your skills are superb. This heroic rescue of the beauty is truly perfect, exquisitely executed—oh, no, not beautiful, it's just that I'm blind, it's 'a hero rescuing a young master.' My apologies."

The Laughing Buddha, even more seriously, untied his bag from behind his back, compared its size to Song Qingshu's, and said with a face full of regret:

"What a pity, what a pity! My bag is too small today, otherwise I could have helped Young Hero Song snatch a bride. Young Hero Song is truly blessed, we are all so envious!"

Yang Xiao stood with his hands behind his back, a slight smile playing on his lips as he looked over.

Standing in the middle of the crowd, Zhang Wuji looked at Senior Brother Song and the girl dressed as a man. For some reason, his scalp tingled, and he subconsciously raised his hand to scratch it.

The Eight Heroes of Divine Arrows had already caught up on horseback.

Zhao Yishang dismounted, his eyes so dark they seemed to drip water, and strode toward Song Qingshu.

The group of people behind him spread out in a fan shape, subtly surrounding Song Qingshu in the middle.

Zhao Yishang placed his right hand on the hilt of his knife, his tone cold and hard as iron, the words squeezed out one by one from between his teeth:

Where was your hand just now?

Song Qingshu glanced at him, then at the knife that was already half an inch out of its scabbard. His face showed no fear; instead, he smiled slightly, cupped his hands in a respectful gesture towards Zhao Yishang, and feigned innocence.

"Don't be angry, brother."

I acted out of momentary panic, and stepped in to protect your young lady when she was in trouble.

Those in the martial arts world are simply doing their duty to save lives and heal the wounded; they ask for nothing in return and need no thanks.

Zhao Yishang's face turned ashen. Who the hell wants to thank you?

Zhao Yishang was about to speak again, but Zhao Min had already mounted her horse.

With her back to everyone, no one could see her expression. All they heard was her utter a single word: "Go."

The voice was as clear and cold as ever, completely different from the trembling tone when Song Qingshu first pulled away from her embrace.

However, if you listen carefully, you can still catch a barely perceptible tremor in that coldness, like the last lingering sound of a broken zither string.

Seeing that the girl disguised as a man was about to leave, Zhou Dian panicked. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't asked about the origin of the Heaven-Slaying Sword yet, and he quickly caught up with her, calling out, "Hey! Hey! Wait! I still have something to ask you!"

Zhao Min ignored them and, surrounded by the Eight Heroes of Divine Archery, spurred her horse forward, her clothes fluttering in the wind.

Eight riders moved like the wind, and six falcons took flight, circling overhead like a dark cloud. In the blink of an eye, the group had almost left the area shaded by the willows.

Song Qingshu stood there, watching the receding figure in sapphire blue, then suddenly cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted loudly:

"Young lady! When will we meet again? Next time we meet, may you wear women's clothing?"

The person on horseback paused slightly.

In the end, I couldn't resist.

I turned around amidst the rapid, bumpy ride.

Her gaze fell on the young man in the blue robe.

The blush on her delicate face hadn't faded, and she gently bit her lower lip with her pearly teeth.

In her clear black and white eyes, there seemed to be five parts coquettish anger, three parts embarrassment and annoyance, and two parts panic that she herself could not recognize and did not have time to recognize.

After that one glance, she never looked back.

The sapphire blue silk robe flashed in the wind before being completely obscured by the back of the Eight Heroes of Divine Arrows.

The sound of horses' hooves thundered, shattering the scorching yellow earth of the afternoon.

They've gone far away.