Husband-stealing story

Chapter 18

Without any warning, Tang Diruo made his move. The moment he attacked, Nineteen felt a chill run down her spine. She dared not be careless and parried with her Xuanbei sword. With a clang, the weapons clashed, and only then did Nineteen realize that he was wielding a pair of judge's pens.

"You've got some skill." Tang Diruo smiled coldly, then used a ruthless technique, slashing upwards—enough to rip open someone's stomach!

Nineteen's expression hardened, and he dodged diagonally while simultaneously lowering his body, his Xuanbei Blade sweeping straight at his legs.

Having little experience with enemies to begin with, and this being her first time facing such a formidable martial arts master, Nineteen felt her breathing becoming increasingly difficult, as if Tang Diruo's internal energy was pressing down on her like a thousand mountains. Yet, she felt inexplicably excited, as if tiny mice were throbbing in her veins. As twilight deepened, Nineteen's eyes gleamed even brighter, her blood surging through her body, her breath ragged; this life-or-death pressure excited her.

The skills he used were no longer based on any particular moves or rules; they arose naturally from instinct and came spontaneously.

Tang Diruo was somewhat taken aback, never expecting that a junior could withstand so many of his moves. What was even more terrifying was that he couldn't discern the woman's techniques at all. With each move, he thought he could capture her, but with each move, she escaped.

She certainly couldn't beat him, but he couldn't beat her either!

The shadows of the trees were dappled, and a slight smile played on her lips—a smile of excitement that startled him. This girl...she looked so much like...so much like...

His mind went blank, and Nineteen seized the opportunity, slashing down with his broadsword repeatedly, forcing him back several steps. Tang Diruo completely abandoned her underestimation and used increasingly ruthless tactics, far beyond what an elder should use against a junior.

She was like a piece of cotton; she could absorb as much water as she wanted and become stronger with each battle.

If this person is not eliminated, he will definitely become a scourge.

Tang Diruo's eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a murderous intent. In the blink of an eye, without anyone knowing what trick he used, the judge's pen suddenly snapped, and two poisoned arrows shot out. Nineteen, already struggling to defend himself, was now even more overwhelmed. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as a poisoned arrow pierced his left shoulder.

"Grandpa!" Tang Chongli cheered loudly, clapping her hands. "Grandpa, kill her! Kill her!" She seemed to be watching some interesting and novel trick, as if she was not killing a single person.

Nineteen's shoulders felt numb, and she felt her inner strength gradually disappearing. Before she knew it, the Judge's Pen had slashed her thigh again, drawing blood. Blood gushed from the wound, but she felt no pain. Her vision blurred, and all she heard was, "Kill her! Kill her!"

Is she going to die?

But what will happen to the spittoon if she dies?

She also had to protect the spittoon at Jinhu Villa, she...

A white light flashed past, blocking her view.

Hmm... I've heard that before a person dies, the Black and White Impermanence come to collect their soul. Is this... the White Impermanence?

She tried to stand up, even if she couldn't win, she could run away, but in the end, she was powerless.

If... he died like this

What to do with this useless old man...?

Chapter Twelve: Healing

Nineteen leaned against a tree, unable even to use acupressure to stop the bleeding. The white shadow, like a ghost, hovered around Tang Diruo, sometimes rising, sometimes falling.

Perhaps it wasn't a ghost at all, but rather the White Impermanence from hell!

His movements were so fast they were dazzling; his figure appeared and disappeared in an instant, making it impossible to predict his next move. Before ten moves were up, Tang Diruo was sent flying, crashing heavily to the ground and spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Tang Chongli was so frightened that she couldn't even cry. She didn't even dare to help her grandfather up. She stammered, "Yin... A-Yin..." She was probably still thinking about her lover.

Nineteen watched as Tang Diruo's already gray hair was covered in another layer of dust. She struggled to her feet, clasped her hands in a fist salute to the man in white, and stood in front of her granddaughter. Tang Chongli stared intently at the man in white, her large eyes filled with tears, trembling with fear.

The man in white slowly raised his hand and reached for Tang Chongli's arm.

In a flash, Nineteen suddenly realized what he was about to do.

He was going to tear off Tang Chongli's arm!

She didn't have time to think about how cunning and barbaric the woman was before she blurted out the words.

Before she could finish her sentence, she had exhausted all her strength, spitting out a mouthful of blood and collapsing limply to the ground.

The person turned around, revealing a white silk mask on their face, seemingly made of the same material as the black silk mask Tian Shu had worn earlier. Beneath the mask were eyes as cold as stars, yet carrying a hint of warmth.

"Only seven."

She heard the man in white utter two words in a low voice. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn't remember who it was.

He mistook someone else for someone else. Nineteen thought, "My name is Nineteen, not Weiqi."

The wound burned painfully, and Nineteen still couldn't faint. This was the domineering nature of Tang Clan poisons—they inflict excruciating pain, yet you wouldn't pass out. The man in white picked her up horizontally, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"Don't be afraid."

She gritted her teeth in pain, but endured it without groaning.

"If it hurts, just yell out. Endure the discomfort, don't make yourself uncomfortable." The man's voice was very pleasant, mellow like fine wine.

"It really...it really hurts, but...there are so many people here, it's so embarrassing to scream out!" She gritted her teeth and squeezed out a few words.

He chuckled softly, the sound lingering in his chest, and Nineteen, leaning against him, heard it clearly.

"Then let's find a quiet place. The pain will still be there when we treat the wound." With that, he leaped up as if riding the clouds.

Is he a deity? Or a demon? Or perhaps an impermanent being?

Nineteen had never seen such excellent lightness skill.

The pain in her shoulder gradually subsided, and a hand was placed on her back, gently channeling her inner energy. It felt warm and very comfortable.

They found themselves in a room sometime during the night. The room was old, but it was very clean. She was completely exhausted and let him carry her to the bed.

"If we're going to pull out the arrow, we might need to take off our clothes," he said somewhat hesitantly.

Nineteen closed his eyes and gritted his teeth: "Release me! If you can save me, I'm not afraid of taking off all my clothes."