Martial Arts Crossover: It All Started with Hijacking Li Canghai

Qin Han raised his hand and pushed the door open.

The door wasn't latched; it opened with a gentle touch.

The room was filled with the scent of sandalwood, neither too strong nor too faint, quite different from the cheap perfume scent downstairs at Baihualou.

Red gauze hung from the roof beams to the air, dividing the elegant room into two sections, inside and out.

Behind the gauze curtain, a reclining figure could be vaguely seen, dressed in red, holding a gold thread in her hand, embroidering flowers on white silk.

The wrist rotation is minimal, and the stitches are dense and even.

Qin Han stood at the door for two breaths.

The scene downstairs was so chaotic just now, with broken porcelain everywhere and people falling from the second floor, smashing tables and chairs. The noise was so loud that the whole street could hear it.

This woman didn't miss a single needle prick.

The breathing rate remained unchanged from beginning to end.

It takes a level of composure that ordinary people don't possess.

Qin Han took two steps forward, and the figure behind the gauze curtain slowly turned around.

Phoenix eyes.

With high-arched brow bones and slightly upturned phoenix eyes, he naturally exuded arrogance.

His features were exquisite but not delicate, with a hint of masculine sharpness in his profile, while his lips were blood red, adding a touch of allure.

She was dressed in red, from neckline to ankles, completely covered, with not an inch of skin exposed.

This way of wearing it accentuates the waistline and shoulder line to an extreme degree, making it even more eye-catching than half-covering up.

Qin Han saw quite a few beauties.

But this woman gave him a different feeling.

It wasn't the physical appearance that was striking, but the oppressive feeling that emanated from the very core of the being, as if it were born to look down on everyone.

He had only seen this kind of temperament in a very small number of people.

The woman in red scanned Qin Han from head to toe with her phoenix eyes, her gaze finally settling on his face for a moment.

A subtle change flashed across his eyes.

It wasn't surprise, but more like confirming something.

Top-level experts don't need to spar to test each other.

She was probing the Qin and Han dynasties.

The embroidery needle stopped.

"Sir, you don't seem to be here for drinking and womanizing."

His voice was deep and resonant, with a languid tone and a hint of nonchalance.

Qin Han laughed.

"This young lady doesn't seem like the top courtesan that the Hundred Flowers Pavilion could afford."

The woman in red behind the gauze curtain moved her lips slightly.

next moment.

The embroidery needle slipped from my fingertips!

The needle made a soft hissing sound as it pierced the air, and a glint of cold light shot out from behind the gauze curtain, aiming straight for Qin Han's throat.

It was so fast it made a whooshing sound as it cut through the air.

It's a sound barrier.

A single embroidery needle created the sound barrier!

Qin Han's neck hairs stood on end instantly. Why did this woman attack without saying anything?

Without much thought, he gathered his inner energy together with the index and middle fingers of his right hand.

The needle tip was held firmly between two fingers, making a crisp "ding" sound.

A cold tremor ran through my fingertips.

The cold, chilling energy attached to the needles surged from the fingertips to the arm.

Qin Han flipped his wrist, dispelling the chill.

He looked down at what he was holding.

Made of silver, three inches long, with a needle tip ground finer than a hair, and engraved with patterns as fine as mosquito legs.

It's just an ordinary embroidery needle, yet it can unleash such power.

The woman in red stood up from the soft couch.

With a wave of her red sleeve.

A series of soft rustling sounds came from under the sleeve, and dozens of embroidery needles shot out from the cuff.

They are not in the same direction.

They came in from all four directions—left, right, top, bottom, and all sides—simultaneously sealing off Qin Han's major acupoints.

Baihui, Tanzhong, Qimen, Zhangmen, Tianshu.

They even went so far as to target the perineum.

This woman was aiming to kill him from the start.

Golden true energy emanated from Qin Han's body, and the true energy of the Dragon God Technique spread across his body, with a visible golden luster enveloping a three-foot radius around him.

Dozens of embroidery needles collided with the golden aura.

It didn't break?!

The needles were suspended in mid-air, held in place by the true energy.

The needle tip was less than an inch from the skin, trembling slightly, unable to go in or back out.

The true essence attached to these needles is extremely high, and they can remain unbroken even in the face of the Dragon God's Qi, indicating that the skill of the person wielding the needles is definitely not inferior to his.

Qin Han's expression was solemn.

Grandmaster.

This woman is a grandmaster!

Then it couldn't be Su Quan; this level of strength is far beyond Su Quan's.

Who exactly is this woman?

I didn't have time to think about it much.

A pale hand ripped the curtains across from them, and a woman in red pressed forward, her figure casting a blurry red shadow in the small boudoir.

fast.

too fast.

Faster than Ao Bai, faster than Jinlun Fawang.

That kind of speed is not just a simple lightness skill; it is an ultimate killing move that perfectly combines movement and attack.

With every inch her body moved, a new embroidery needle would pop out from her sleeve, hair bun, belt, and even the sole of her shoe.

Each one is aimed at the vital point.

Qin and Han were forced to retreat half a step.

Seventy percent of his injuries had healed, and his internal energy had recovered to fifty percent.

In her prime, this woman might not have had the upper hand.

But it's not at its peak right now.

She couldn't keep up with his speed, so she used the Lingbo Weibu (a martial arts technique) to move around the boudoir.

Fragments of the gauze curtains flew everywhere, the tea set was knocked off and shattered by the force of the palm strike, and the bronze mirror on the dressing table cracked in two.

The woman in red struck Qin Han's right neck with a palm strike.

Qin Han dodged to the side, the palm wind grazing his earlobe, the chill making his earlobe ache.

He grabbed it with his backhand.

He clasped his five fingers around the woman's wrist.

The woman flipped her wrist, slipping through his fingers.

That wrist was unusually thin, with smooth and cool skin.

The moment Qin Han's fingertips touched the other's wrist, he felt the flow of true energy beneath the other's wrist bone—extremely fast, extremely cold, and carrying a strange rotating force.

A cultivation method I've never seen before.

It's not from the Divine Dragon Sect, not from Tantric Buddhism, and doesn't resemble any sect from the Central Plains.

Using the momentum of her wrist slipping, the woman spun half a circle around Qin Han's side, then silently pulled three embroidery needles from her waist and stabbed them into his lower back, near the Mingmen acupoint.

Qin Han felt a chill run down his spine. Just how many needles did this woman hide?

A surge of internal energy rippled from behind, and the three needles were deflected.

The two brushed past each other.

They each took two steps back.

The boudoir was in a complete mess.

The gauze curtains were all torn to shreds, and most of the tables and chairs were broken. The white peony on the windowsill was still standing intact, with a layer of fine wood chips on its petals.

The woman in red stood by the window, her chest rising and falling slightly.

There was something extra in the phoenix eyes.

It wasn't murderous intent.

It's an interest.

"You actually managed to catch my needle."

Qin Han wiped the bloodstains from the palm strike on his earlobe, leaving a trace of red on his fingertip.

"The girl's needlework is indeed fast."

The woman in red tilted her head slightly.

This angle evoked an inexplicable sense of familiarity in Qin Han; even his first wife had this side to her.

He didn't think much of it; the woman in front of him was still holding a needle.

"Who exactly are you?"

The woman in red narrowed her phoenix eyes slightly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"You came looking for me, and you don't even know who I am?"

She paused for a moment.

"Didn't that person tell you?"

Qin Han was taken aback.

What does that mean?

Who is it?

His words were loaded with meaning, as if he should have known her identity, as if someone had guided him here.

He clearly came to check if the courtesan was Su Quan, but this woman obviously wasn't. If Su Kui were a Grandmaster, he would have killed Hong Antong long ago.

Before I could even ask any further questions...

The woman now has another embroidery needle at her fingertips.