Chapter Forty-Two: The Clash

Chapter Forty-Two

Ye Jingxuan did not retreat but advanced instead, stepping forward toward the direction of the arrows. At the same time, his body bent swiftly backward, evading the sharp edge of the incoming arrow.

Yet Mei seemed to have anticipated this move. She had already leaped into the air, drawing her bow again. Each arrow flew faster than the last.

Ye Jingxuan, unable to dodge in time below, spread his hands, and a golden metallic wall materialized before him, blocking all of Mei’s attacks.

Seeing her assault thwarted, Mei rapidly shifted her position. No sooner had she moved than a metal dagger embedded itself in the spot she had just occupied.

Ye Jingxuan advanced on Mei again, but she did her best to keep her distance, loosing arrows to hinder his approach. Realizing he couldn’t close in, Ye Jingxuan occasionally threw a dagger imbued with his powers to disrupt her rhythm, hoping to create an opening for himself.

There were only so many arrows in Mei’s quiver. When just two remained, she drew both at once and nocked them to her bow.

Both arrows shot out together, twisting through the air like twin dragons, changing their trajectory at intervals and coming at Ye Jingxuan from different angles.

His expression grew grave at this. The unpredictable movement of the two arrows left him uncertain where to defend. So Ye Jingxuan abandoned defense altogether, charging headlong toward the arrows, seizing a brief gap to throw a punch while shielding his vitals with his powers.

His fist struck nothing but air. Yet just as the arrows were about to pierce his body, they seemed to lose all momentum and clattered harmlessly to the ground.

Mei, meanwhile, had a metal dagger shoot toward her face. As it closed in, the dagger suddenly transformed into a cluster of steel needles, aimed to strike her entire body.

Such an attack should have been easy for Mei to evade. But for reasons unknown—perhaps she was simply exhausted—she stood unmoving. Ye Jingxuan sensed something was wrong and tried to dispel his power, but it was too late. All he could do was watch in horror as the steel needles penetrated her body.

His pupils dilated, his mind went blank. Ye Jingxuan stood frozen, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.

Everyone present was startled by this scene. To be struck by so many needles—if not fatal, it would at least be crippling.

Mo Chen, An Ziyou, and the others were likewise shaken, wanting to rush forward—only to find that when the needles sank into Mei’s body, not a drop of blood appeared. Instead, her figure dissolved into motes of light and vanished.

Seeing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, except for Ye Jingxuan, who remained rooted in the same posture, unmoving.

Suddenly, he spun around and pulled a delicate figure tightly into his arms.

Mei was taken aback by his reaction. Weren’t they just sparring?

What was this about?

Fortunately, she reacted quickly, dissipating her weapon; otherwise, he might have been hurt.

She reached up to push him away, but when he didn’t budge, she assumed he was just exhausted and let him rest against her.

Only when Ye Jingxuan felt the undeniable warmth of her body in his arms did he dare believe she was truly unharmed.

For a brief moment earlier, it was as if his heart had stopped beating—the chill he felt was like plunging into an icy abyss. It was a sensation he never wished to experience again in his life.

He didn’t care to analyze why he felt this way; he only knew he never wanted to endure it a second time.

When he finally managed to calm his racing emotions, he released the person in his arms. Seeing her upturned face, so full of confusion and innocence, he couldn’t help but feel helpless.

She had no idea how frightening that scene had been—especially for those who cared about her!

He truly wanted to scold her thoroughly.

But before he could, someone else pulled Mei out of his embrace and chided her, “You little rascal, all this just for a sparring match? Do you know you nearly scared us out of our wits! Look—your hand’s hurt again! Anyone who didn’t know better would think you and Ye had some deep-seated vendetta. Was it necessary to go this far?”

Mo Chen poked Mei’s forehead hard, then turned over her right hand. There, where only a faint scar had remained, the bowstring had left a fresh line of blood.

Thankfully, it wasn’t serious this time.

After checking the wound, Mo Chen, reassured, gave Mei—who looked somewhat aggrieved from the scolding—a fierce glare.

“It was only because everyone was focused on the last two arrows that no one noticed me dodging and leaving behind just a mirror image. How is that my fault?” Mei muttered, rubbing her reddened forehead.

“It’s true, it’s not your fault we didn’t see it was only an image. But you’re our friend, someone we all care about. When we saw you might be hurt, we couldn’t help but worry. That scene just now really scared us. Thankfully, it wasn’t real,” An Ziyou said gently, his tone full of relief. This eased some of Mei’s grievance, replacing it with a tinge of guilt.

So, they had been worried about her.

She hadn’t realized her move had frightened them so.

“I’ve used that move often before, and no one’s ever worried about me!” she protested under her breath, still feeling a bit wronged.

She forgot, however, that those who’d seen her use this technique in the past all knew her true capabilities and naturally didn’t believe she would really get hurt. In truth, she still hid too many secrets from her current companions. They only saw her as a formidable fighter, not an unrivaled one.

Her words, however, struck a sore spot with the others. It meant that in the past, no one had cared whether she was injured, and that pained them. Especially Mo Chen, who recalled his own time in that place, being used for all sorts of experiments, enduring pain in silence. He couldn’t help but empathize with Mei’s perspective, his anger fading.

After all, their pasts were much the same.

“All right, enough sulking! We haven’t done anything to you, have we? Maybe in the past you had no one, but now you have me—and all of us. Remember, things are different now. No matter how much pain or hardship you face, you’re not alone anymore. If you get hurt, we’ll worry about you. Just as you once worried about me—don’t you see, it’s the same feeling? Do you understand?” Mo Chen soothed, patting her head.

His words triggered a torrent of memories in Mei’s mind: lying in a stark white operating room, watching people in lab coats wielding all manner of instruments and drugs, performing endless experiments on her body. All the pain had to be endured raw, for they needed to monitor her physiological data and would not use anesthetics. She could only bear it until numbness or unconsciousness overtook her.

The memories were too vivid, the sense of immersion too intense. In that moment, the recollections in her mind ceased to be distant—they became lived experience. Pain, hatred, loneliness, and despair surged up all at once, and she did not resist them. She simply followed her body’s instincts and buried her head in Mo Chen’s embrace.

“Ah Chen…” Her whisper was laden with complex emotion, but words were unnecessary—he understood.

Those memories that could not, and need not, be spoken aloud; those feelings only the two of them could share; all that was known only to them—without another word, he understood.

This tacit understanding excluded all others. No matter what, no one else could step into that space.

If they couldn’t join in, then they would simply break through.

“Doesn’t your hand hurt? Come with me and let’s bandage it,” Ye Jingxuan finally cut in, unable to bear feeling left out any longer. Carefully yet assertively, he drew Mei from Mo Chen’s arms.

Mo Chen’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Ye Jingxuan. The usual mischievous glint in his eyes was now sharp as a blade. Ye Jingxuan met his gaze unflinchingly, his own eyes brimming with an uncharacteristic fierceness and authority.

Their confrontation lasted only a moment—so brief that anyone not paying close attention would have missed it entirely.

Ye Jingxuan took Mei by the wrist and led her away. The others, no longer in the mood for training, followed suit, leaving the members of the Ye family behind to enthusiastically discuss the spar that had just taken place.

Back in a second-floor room of the residence, Ye Jingxuan carefully bandaged Mei’s wounded hand. Seeing her subdued demeanor, he didn’t know how to comfort her. After some thought, he turned to the others.

“Have you ever considered forming a mercenary squad?”

“Of course. If the Yuehua Base hadn’t been so strict, Little Mei and I would have set one up long ago,” Mo Chen replied lazily, though his words carried a hint of provocation.

Lately, he’d found Ye Jingxuan more and more irksome—the way he took Mei’s presence for granted, as if she belonged to him, was infuriating. He might not be as close to her as Ye Jingxuan, nor as attentive as An Ziyou, so what right did Ye Jingxuan have to claim her?

Meeting Mo Chen’s provocative gaze, Ye Jingxuan’s eyes darkened, his aura pressing down on Mo Chen in return.

Mo Chen did not back down; his own aura flared, matching Ye Jingxuan’s intensity.

A fight, then?

Bring it on—who’s afraid of whom?

Training grounds, after this!

Fine, I’ll be there!

The two exchanged a silent agreement with their eyes. Only then did they withdraw their oppressive presence.

Apart from Mei, who was still drained by the surge of intense emotions earlier and didn’t notice the tension between the two, An Ziyou and the others felt the pressure acutely.

Now that the standoff was over, the three of them relaxed, though their expressions varied.

Lin Shaojie was simply puzzled, unable to understand how the two had come into conflict. Qu Wenjuan, on the other hand, had a faint sense that the dispute was over Mei, and found herself somewhat amused. As for An Ziyou, he kept his head lowered, his long hair veiling his face, making it impossible to discern his thoughts. Judging by the aura he exuded, however, he seemed rather displeased—though the reason was anyone’s guess.