After marrying a sickly and powerful official, Jiaojiao cries every day

The green crepe floated slightly, and the figures of the two people were looming.

Sang Muye lowered his eyes and met her smiling eyes, and felt a surge of blood in his throat, which was clearly caused by anger.

He was the only one in the tribe who could play tricks on others. Even the dogs on the roadside would be thrown mud by him. His bad reputation spread throughout the tribe. Everyone would grit their teeth when they saw him, but they could do nothing about it.

But now, he, the little bully of Miao, was actually tricked and defeated. The other party was just a young and weak girl. If this gets out to the tribe, where will he put his face?

"You, you, you are better, okay?"

After he finished speaking, Sang Muye struggled slightly, and the silver ornaments on his body jingled, sounding crisp and pleasant, as if pearls and jade had fallen on the ground.

After hearing this, Wen Ranyan smiled brightly, but her eyes were filled with a sharp coldness: "I'll give you one more chance. Tell me, why did you follow me?"

Although this guy in front of him was laughing and had a lot of ulterior motives, he had no intention of killing. The puppet Gu that had been put in the tea just now was also the mildest kind, and it would naturally be removed as soon as the questioning was finished.

Otherwise, the poisonous thread in her hand would have cut off his head long ago, instead of just drugging him.

Sang Muye smiled and negotiated: "Little girl, can you untie the thread and move a little further away from me? You are so close to me, I am shy and nervous, and I can hardly speak."

"Not negotiable."

Wen Ranyan chuckled and suddenly twisted the other end of the poisonous thread close to his throat.

The poison thread was like a sharp blade, as if it would cut his throat if he took one more step closer.

Looking at the poisonous thread so close at hand, Sang Muye's eyes changed slightly, his smile faded, and an icy coldness spread in his peach blossom eyes. At this moment, his aura suddenly changed, like a poisonous snake lurking in the jungle, icy to the bone, and dangerous.

Sensing his change, Wen Ranyan raised her eyebrows slightly and smiled more brightly and gently.

This is what he looks like under the disguise of a smiling face.

You are clearly a cold snake, why are you pretending to be a lamb?

It was a silent confrontation, the air in the pleasure boat was filled with chill, but no one backed down or gave in.

Sang Muye's peach blossom eyes flickered slightly, and he finally looked at Wen Ranyan seriously.

The little girl in red, with gold ornaments on her body shining like gilded gold, has a pretty face, eyebrows as beautiful as a painting, skin as white as jade, and a pair of charming almond eyes, which are even more beautiful than the spring crabapple blossoms and more charming than mountain elves and monsters.

But with just a simple glance, it seemed as if a myriad of gentle and charming customs flowed through her, and countless soft Wu dialects spoke in a way that made people feel dizzy.

His attacks were even more dangerous and brutal, more domineering than that of the little bully from Miao area.

Sang Muye's throat moved slightly, and he couldn't help but look away: "I am just curious about the Love Gu, so I want to follow you to see who made it. The most important thing is that I want to become your disciple. After all, it is human nature to want to become stronger."

The coldness in his eyes faded away, and he curled his thin lips slightly, smiling playfully again.

Wen Ranyan sneered: "Do you think I'm a fool?"

Sang Muye hurriedly shook his head: "You are so pretty, it's definitely not the case."

When Wen Ranyan was about to press the issue further, the atmosphere in the houseboat changed again. The biting cold suddenly made it hard to breathe.

All I heard was a whoosh sound.

A sharp sword tore through the sky, broke through the glow, and stabbed straight towards Sang Muye's face with a surging and terrifying murderous intent.

Sang Muye's eyes suddenly widened, and after circulating his internal energy for a circle, he finally recovered his strength. He swung out a nine-section long whip to resist.

His body movements were as fast as flowing clouds, and his long whip swept away the energy of the sky, and in the blink of an eye it entangled the tip of the long sword.

There was a "clang" sound.

The long sword was nailed to a wooden stake beside him, but Sang Muye was still shocked by the sharp sword energy and took a few steps back. He managed to stand firm after he had supported his lower body.

The pleasure boat was moving slowly, and while Sang Muye was catching his breath, he suddenly looked in the direction where the murderous intent was coming from.

Wen Ranyan also looked over casually.

Then, a man in red was seen standing on the deck. His wide sleeves rustled in the gentle spring breeze. His black hair swept across his eyebrows, revealing a pair of dark phoenix eyes. They were like a bottomless abyss, and the surging violence and bloodthirstiness seemed to want to slaughter Sang Muye to death.

Sang Muye frowned, his peach blossom eyes were as cold and secluded as a snake.

Isn’t this the God of Death, Feng Qiwu?

Why is he here?

"What are you doing to her?" Feng Qiwu stared at Sang Muye, her eyes cold and devoid of any warmth.

Sang Muye: “…”

No.

Which eye of this killer god saw him bullying Wen Ranyan?

It was obvious that this little girl was bullying him.

Sang Muye subconsciously glanced at Wen Ranyan and saw that the latter was standing there calmly, with smiling almond-shaped eyes and a cup of hot tea in her hand. She clearly looked like she was going to watch a good show.

Sang Muye was so angry that he had a heart attack. He was about to explain something, but Feng Qiwu didn't give him the chance.

A cold and sharp light flashed, and Feng Qiwu had taken down his sword without knowing when. He rushed forward, his clothes that were as bright as peach blossoms were blown away by the strong wind, his eyebrows and eyes were vague, and his sword energy was like a rainbow.

Sang Muye's eyes turned cold and he swung the whip again.

The long whip bent like a spirit snake, bringing with it a chill as if it could tear apart the long wind, and came head-on.

The cold wave suddenly broke through, and the released internal energy swept through the pleasure boat.

Tables and chairs fell over, celadon jade cups were shattered, and the boat was shaking as if it would sink at any time.

Wen Ranyan was still leisurely. She drank her hot tea and ate some fruit, as if time was peaceful and quiet.

Sang Muye complained: "Young man, can you give me a chance to speak?"

Feng Qiwu held a sword, his black eyes were cold and his murderous intent could not be concealed.

Sang Muye begged for mercy, but there was a hint of coldness in his eyes: "Young man, I really didn't do anything. Can you sit down and explain it to me?"

Feng Qiwu moved his thin lips and smiled creepily: "So what do you really want to do?"

As soon as he arrived, he saw that scene: two figures entangled in the thin crepe, the man was handsome and the woman was beautiful, talking and laughing. If others didn't know, they would think they were a couple.

Although he shouldn't have misunderstood like this, Wen Ranyan was close to him because she was attracted by his beauty. Now, would she be interested in other good-looking boys?

But it doesn’t matter. If there is one kid like this, he will kill him one at a time. If there are two, he will kill a pair at a time until they are all killed.

Thinking of this, Feng Qiwu's scarlet eyes were stained with blood and an excited smile.

He's simply a lunatic.

Sang Muye noticed that he was becoming more aggressive and didn't want to fight anymore, so he just jumped out of the window and escaped.

In a few breaths, there was no trace of him.

Feng Qiwu didn't want to chase after him anymore. He turned sideways, holding his sword, and walked towards Wen Ranyan step by step.

The long sword dragged on the wooden board, the tip touching the ground, leaving sword marks.

Wen Ranyan watched him approaching, playing with the teacup in her hand, smiling seductively, not frightened or afraid: "What? Are you ready to fight me with this posture?"

Feng Qiwu dropped his sword, grabbed her slender waist and pulled her into his arms. He leaned over and buried his head in the crook of her neck. It was a long while before he found his voice again.

"Who was that person just now?"

The cold voice contained a hint of hostility, but it was hidden and suppressed deliberately.