Chapter 25: Stirring the Heart

Cold sweat drenched Lu Yao’s back, and she felt with chilling certainty that the madman would kill her in the next second.

She tried to observe her surroundings as if by accident, feeling utterly hopeless inside.

It was a mire—she had no advantage for escape.

Unless…

Just as the thought flickered in her mind, a sharp pain shot through the back of the madman’s neck. He reached up and yanked out the sedative syringe that had been thrust into him, his features instantly contorting in a feral snarl. He tried to strike back, but darkness swallowed him and he crumpled to the ground with a dull thud.

Lu Yao stared in shock, scanning the area, until she caught sight of a tall, familiar figure striding toward the mire. Even separated by several hundred meters, she recognized at a glance that Ye Zehong had come to save her.

She stared at him, something tightening deep within her—an unnameable emotion.

Ye Zehong’s voice was crisp and commanding: “What are you standing around for? Hurry up and come here.” He tossed her a thick hemp rope.

Snapping back to her senses, Lu Yao ignored her disheveled state, gripped the coarse rope, and with great effort wrenched her trapped legs free, step by grueling step, until she reached the very edge of the mire.

At that moment, she was like a bedraggled, exhausted fish out of water.

All strength drained from her, she collapsed on the edge.

Ye Zehong pressed his lips together, saying nothing as he gripped her wrist and hauled her out of the mire, then swept her into his arms and strode away.

By instinct, Lu Yao wrapped her arms around his neck. Staring up at his resolute jaw and firm, well-shaped lips, her heart skipped a beat.

For the first time in three years, she found the chill in his expression oddly attractive.

Even in silence, he could stir her heart.

Ye Zehong lowered his eyes to look at her. He’d intended to scold her, but seeing her face smeared with mud, the words died in his throat.

His tone softened, turning low and gentle: “From now on, don’t do anything dangerous again.”

That tender voice brushed against her ears like a feather stroking her heart, sending a shiver through her.

Breathing in his fresh scent, Lu Yao nodded obediently and silently.

They returned to the west wing of Plum Blossom Garden.

Ye Zehong glanced at the woman in his arms, her cheeks flushed, and the corners of his lips lifted slightly. “Haven’t had enough of being held?”

Lu Yao’s expression changed instantly. She scrambled out of his embrace. The retort caught in her throat as her gaze fell on the mud smeared across his clothes. Her tone softened, “I’m sorry for dirtying your clothes. Maybe you should take them off—I can wash them for you.”

“Are you sure?”

His voice teased, lips curving with a hint of something ambiguous.

Lu Yao instantly caught the implication, her cheeks turning scarlet. A tingling heat spread down her spine.

Ye Zehong raised his hand to unbutton his shirt, his dark eyes fixed on her. With every button he undid, Lu Yao swallowed involuntarily, her heart pounding, breath growing ragged.

As he reached the second-to-last button, she suddenly rushed forward and pressed his hand to stop him. Their eyes met, and she shook her head ever so slightly.

“I… I just…” Her words barely began before his lips suddenly pressed against hers.

He didn’t deepen the kiss, just brushed her lips briefly before stepping back to put some distance between them.

In his gaze simmered a fierce, suppressed emotion, and he spoke coldly, “I don’t know what you’re investigating, but you alone could never take on Ye Hua and the powerful forces behind her. She’s nothing but a puppet. Back then, using her husband was never just about fame.”

Lu Yao was taken aback, looking up into his cold, severe features. She asked in confusion, “Then what was it for?”

“Money!”