His Highness the Madman gave in again today.

She was actually... walking towards the main campus!

Yan Qing immediately felt as if he were facing a formidable enemy.

This vixen has finally extended her wicked hands to His Highness once again!

Yan Qing took off running, arriving at the main study ahead of Mo Sangyu as quickly as possible.

"Your Highness...Your Highness, she's here! She's here!"

Behind the desk, Feng Xingyu was looking down at the defense map of the northern border.

Long, slender fingers held a small wolf-hair brush, its tip hovering above a pass, poised but not yet falling.

The candlelight flickered across his sharply defined profile, casting varying shades of light and shadow on his eyes, like a deep pool beneath a layer of ice.

The cold wind that Yan Qing brought as he burst through the door gently ruffled a few strands of dark hair on his forehead.

He didn't look up, but as Yan Qing finished speaking, his thin lips pressed into a cold, straight line.

"Your Highness, I have a question for you."

Yan Qing asked eagerly and excitedly, "Is your injury healed?"

Why are you asking that?

Upon hearing this, Luo Ming, who had just finished examining Feng Xingyu, became wary: "These past two days treating His Highness's injuries have wasted so many precious medicinal herbs, you mustn't do anything reckless!"

"Dr. Luo!"

Yan Qing said with a serious expression, "How can it be considered a waste to give it to His Highness? Judging from this, His Highness's injury should have healed by now, so I will go and verify it for His Highness."

After saying that, without waiting for Luo Ming's objection, Yan Qing quickly left the room.

In fact, Yan Qing still doesn't believe in damage transfer; there's no such thing as a supernatural skill in the world.

Even if it was some kind of sorcery, two days have passed, and it's probably already gone.

He is now determined to avenge His Highness and the two brothers, Ah Lin and Ah Hu.

This scourge has been eliminated!

"Yan Qing!"

Luo Ming called out and was about to chase after him when Feng Xingyu stopped him with a look.

It's good to verify it again.

Outside the courtyard.

As Mo Sangyu stepped through the moon gate of the main courtyard, a dark shadow shot out from behind the artificial hill on the side like a ghost.

It moved so fast that it left only a fleeting afterimage in the night.

The palm strike was fierce, accompanied by the sound of air being torn apart, and went straight for her back.

Mo Sangyu's soul sense was sharp, and he noticed the other party almost the moment they moved.

Unfortunately, this body reacted too slowly, and its spiritual power was sealed, so she didn't have time to make an effective dodge and could only try to turn to the side.

"Bang!"

A heavy palm struck her left shoulder squarely.

With this palm strike, Yan Qing used seventy percent of his power, his true energy penetrating straight into his lungs and internal organs, aiming entirely to shatter his heart meridian.

The moment the palms touched, Mo Sangyu felt a sudden numbness in her left side, her entire arm went numb, and it felt as if the bones in her arm were about to be shattered.

She staggered back two steps before barely managing to regain her balance.

Oh.

Still trying to get yourself killed?

well.

She'll see it through to the end.

Yan Qing stared intently at Mo Sangyu.

He didn't see the scene he expected: Mo Sangyu's bones shattered and internal organs ruptured, leading to his death. Instead, he only saw Mo Sangyu's figure sway slightly after being hit, not at all like someone who had suffered any serious injuries. He was completely dazed.

That shouldn't be the case.

He showed no mercy.

Moreover, this demoness has no true qi fluctuations, so she is definitely not a martial arts master. How could she possibly withstand 70% of the power of a seventh-grade martial arts master?

A terrifying thought flashed into my mind like lightning.

He turned around abruptly and rushed back to the study at an even faster pace than he had come in, as if he were a madman.

"Your Highness!"

He burst through the door, his voice trembling with fear.

Under the candlelight, Feng Xingyu remained seated behind his desk, his posture upright.

However, a few drops of glaring bright red blood were splashed on the map of the northern border defenses in front of him.

As for him, a bloodstain that had not been wiped away was slowly winding downwards from the corner of his lips, his face had lost its color and turned pale, and his left hand was pressed tightly under his left shoulder.

It was Yan Qing who struck the spot corresponding to Mo Sangyu.

Feng Xingyu raised his eyes and looked at Yan Qing, who had rushed in.

Those eyes were unfathomable, devoid of anger or questioning, only a cold, almost freezing silence.

"Verification complete." He spoke slowly, his voice slightly hoarse from the pain: "How was it?"

"Your Highness..."

Yan Qing's expression was quite interesting.

Unbelievable, shocked and angry, yet also filled with guilt and self-reproach.

If he had known, he should have gone easy on her.

He has wronged His Highness!

Luo Ming angrily walked over and punched him twice: "You, you brute!"

Just as he was about to turn around to check Feng Xingyu's injuries, the light at the study door dimmed, and a slender figure slowly walked in.

It was Mo Sangyu.

Her expression remained normal, and her steps were steady.

His cold gaze swept over the three people in the study, finally settling on Yan Qing's face, a faint yet chilling smile curving his lips.

The air pressure in the room gradually decreased.

"Weren't you going to kill me?"

She spoke, her voice low: "Why are you running?"

As soon as she finished speaking, she slowly raised her hand.

With a slight movement of her fingers, a faint, ethereal blue light flowed out, quickly coalescing and taking shape above her palm.

It gradually transformed into the shape of a dagger.

The dagger, initially a transparent phantom, materialized at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The blade was as thin as a cicada's wing, and a chilling, sharp aura emanated from it.

The three people inside the room had a drastic change in expression.

Luo Ming's eyes widened, his face filled with horror: "This...this is something that appears out of thin air?!"

Yan Qing felt a chill run through his body for no apparent reason.

He had never seen such a bizarre method before.

Feng Xingyu's pupils contracted slightly, and he tightened his grip on his left shoulder.

His gaze was fixed intently on Mo Sangyu and the dagger in her hand, his face expressionless, only a barely perceptible glint of cold light flashing deep in his eyes.

Mo Sangyu seemed oblivious to the reactions of the others. Holding the dagger that was entirely formed from spiritual energy, she walked step by step toward Yan Qing.

The dagger twirled lightly in her hand, its silver light flowing.

Seeing this, Yan Qing forced himself to remain calm: "You... what do you want to do?"

Mo Sangyu smiled.

That smile was breathtakingly beautiful, yet it also carried an indescribable danger.

She stopped in front of Yan Qing, held out the dagger, and pointed to her heart: "Come on, stab me here."

Yan Qing's breath hitched. He glanced at the dagger in her hand and shook his head repeatedly.

Mo Sangyu took another step forward, her eyes sharp as knives: "I gave you a chance, and you didn't kill me?"

"..."

Is he trying to use him to harm His Highness? Does he think the prince is stupid?

He will never be fooled.

That cunning and treacherous vixen!

Yan Qing wouldn't allow himself to show the slightest cowardice, forcing himself to look directly into Mo Sangyu's eyes. When he saw a hint of... madness surfacing in her eyes, he suddenly had a bad feeling.

"You won't kill me."

Sure enough, the next moment, Mo Sangyu's voice suddenly turned cold: "Then I'll kill you!"

Before she finished speaking, she suddenly exerted force on her wrist and stabbed it fiercely towards Yan Qing's heart.

Yan Qing was startled.

With his seventh-rank martial arts cultivation, his reaction speed and speed could have easily dodged it, but the distance was too close and he was caught off guard. In the end, he only managed to avoid a vital spot, and the sharp blade pierced his shoulder.

The blood quickly soaked through the grayish-white coarse cloth uniform.

Mo Sangyu released his grip, leaving the dagger on Yan Qing's shoulder.

The physical objects formed from spiritual energy will not dissipate.

She took a step back, dusted off non-existent dust from her hands, then turned to look at Feng Xingyu, who had remained silent behind the desk, her tone returning to its initial calm: "Your Highness, keep your dog in check. If it dares to bark and bite again..."

Her gaze swept over Yan Qing, whose face was deathly pale, and returned to Feng Xingyu, her words carrying a hidden meaning: "He's not the only one in pain."

The study was deathly silent.