A Jiu’s eardrums ached from the piercing cry.
Slowly, she lowered her hands from her ears and saw it was Xiao Yan Yan.
He didn’t look like himself at all.
“To be frank, if I wasn’t afraid of blood, you’d be dead already.”
Xiao Yan Yan’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, and he smugly tilted his chin towards A Jiu, as if seeking praise.
That was more like him.
“Let’s go.” Steward Li’s eyes widened with increasing horror. This was too strange. He turned, enduring the tremor in his right arm, and returned to the carriage:
“Master, today we encountered an expert. Let’s live to fight another day. Otherwise, I can introduce my own sister to you.”
He didn’t want to die here.
How could Master Li not have seen that scene? His complexion was no better, as if he had seen a ghost in broad daylight.
A Jiu watched the carriage slowly pull away, her body slumping to the ground.
“Sister A Jiu.” Xiao Yan Yan rushed forward to check on her. As he reached to feel for her breath, a look of helplessness flashed in his eyes before he retracted his hand.
He couldn’t actually feel pulses; he had only seen others do that when checking on the dead.
“I’m fine.” A Jiu was disoriented, as if she had narrowly escaped death.
Meng Shaode’s body swayed as he finally regained his senses. That knife had been less than three inches from his forehead, and his soul had nearly flown away.
“A Jiu? Are you alright? Were you scared?”
Cai Lihua dropped the cleaver in her hand.
A Jiu slowly shook her head, her sweat-drenched hair sticking to her grimy little face.
A Jiu’s dazed gaze suddenly snapped back into focus. She grabbed Tuoba Yan’s left hand, intending to check for injuries.
He flinched, retracting his arm. “I’m not hurt.”
A Jiu looked at him blankly. She had clearly seen the ox-horn knife strike his arm.
And earlier, when she had touched him, his arm had felt stiff, lacking the soft, warm texture of a normal human limb.
“What just happened?” Meng Shaode, whose soul had only just returned, had a moment of complete blankness.
“Old Meng, I was so scared just now.” Cai Lihua burst into tears:
“I’ve never seen you fight so desperately before. You really scared me to death.”
“Don’t worry, I think I need to practice my speed more.” Meng Shaode summarized his experience.
“Yes, Uncle. Your body is strong and solid. You just need to work on your speed.”
Tuoba Yan grinned and scratched his head.
“Sister A Jiu, you rest. They definitely won’t come back. I’ll handle refilling the water.”
He said this, picked up the waterskin, and went to refill it. The delay earlier had allowed the water in the puddle to clarify considerably.
A Jiu, however, sat under a large tree, staring blankly at Tuoba Yan’s retreating back.
If not for him just now, her father would be dead. Perhaps their whole family would be dead, and she would have to serve that perverted Master Li.
But he seemed to have a great secret.
How could a normal person use his arm as a knife?
A Jiu’s gaze drifted downwards. The ox-horn knife had been casually stuck into the ground by him earlier.
A Jiu pulled it out and tested it with her thumb. Hiss, it was exceptionally sharp.
A section in the middle of the blade was clearly dented. This was precisely the point of contact with Xiao Yan Yan’s arm.
And in that instant, his arm had felt unnaturally hard, lacking the warmth and softness of a normal person.
Could it be that he had a prosthetic arm made of metal? She had seen an official at Master Li’s mansion in her previous life who had a metal hand after losing an arm.
But that didn’t seem right either. Xiao Yan Yan’s hand looked just like a normal person’s. Could he have cut off half his arm and attached his hand to a bronze or iron frame?
That didn’t make sense.
Or perhaps, he was wearing a very sturdy wrist guard? Yes, that was the most logical explanation.
“Daughter, don’t be scared anymore, okay?” Cai Lihua stroked A Jiu’s head.
A Jiu finally came back to her senses.
“Mom, I’m not scared. Don’t worry.”
A Jiu smiled serenely, not wanting her mother to worry.
“Huh? Where’s your Grandma?” Cai Lihua straightened up and looked around. She had been sitting under that tree just a moment ago, but now she was gone.
A Jiu hugged her knees, resting her chin on them, and said without lifting her eyelids, “She ran.”
A Jiu had seen it. The moment the knife was drawn, the old woman’s legs had moved with unprecedented agility, kicking up a trail of dust as she fled.
She wondered how that woman had the nerve to scold her eldest uncle.