201: Chapter 201 If it's you, I'm willing

Something was surging in the depths of her eyes, something she was desperately trying to suppress but couldn't keep down.

Han Qingxue looked at him, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment, as if trying to recognize who he was.

Then, she bit her lip and turned her face away.

"You... stay away from me."

Her voice was terribly hoarse, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from between her teeth.

Ye Yun did not move.

"Is the drug you were struck with the same one I was struck with earlier?"

He asked.

Han Qingxue closed her eyes, her chest heaving violently, but she did not answer.

But Ye Yun had already read the answer from her reaction.

He had also been struck by the pink smoke thrown by that lean man earlier, and he knew what it was.

An extremely vile aphrodisiac drug aimed at male Martial Artists.

And the one Han Qingxue was struck with was the one thrown personally by that old man.

The color was darker, the volume larger, and the drug's potency would only be stronger.

He had seen similar drugs before.

In the Fengyun Mountains, the soft charm powder that Wen Yulan was struck with, and in Qingzhou City, the Spring Breeze Powder that Fang Hansu was struck with.

He knew how to cure this kind of drug.

"Senior Sister."

Ye Yun's voice was very low and steady.

"I know how to cure this poison."

Han Qingxue opened her eyes abruptly.

"No."

She blurted it out almost instantly, her voice hurried and flustered, carrying a trace of trembling she was trying her best to suppress.

"Absolutely not. I am your Senior Sister."

Ye Yun looked at her.

"You came to save me. If you hadn't blocked that palm strike for me, you wouldn't have been poisoned. If you hadn't blocked that drug for me, you wouldn't have..."

He paused, not finishing the sentence.

"That still won't do."

Han Qingxue's voice turned a few degrees colder, but that coldness shattered within less than a breath.

She bit her lip, her body curling up slightly on the dry grass, her hands gripping the dry grass beneath her tightly, her knuckles turning white.

"I... I can endure it myself. You go out."

Ye Yun did not move.

He watched Han Qingxue curled up on the dry grass, shivering all over, her lips bitten white, her forehead covered in cold sweat.

She was using her remaining sanity to fight against the surging drug potency in her body.

But that drug potency was too fierce; every time she suppressed it, it resulted in an even more violent backlash.

Her Ice-type Mystic Power was rampaging wildly on the verge of losing control.

Her Meridians, which had not yet fully healed, were in precarious danger under the dual impact of the drug and her Mystic Power.

If this continued, she wouldn't even need to wait for the drug to attack her heart; her Meridians would burst and cost her her life.

"Senior Sister."

Ye Yun reached out and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

Through the thin garment soaked in sweat, he could feel the scorching heat of her skin.

"Enduring it like this is no solution. Your Meridians haven't recovered; forcing suppression will cause them to burst."

Han Qingxue's shoulders trembled slightly under his palm.

She did not shake off his hand, nor did she speak.

She simply buried her face in the dry grass, curling herself up even tighter.

Ye Yun knew he couldn't wait any longer.

He reached out to hold Han Qingxue's wrist, wanting to use his Pure Yang Mystic Power to help her suppress the drug in her body.

But the moment his Mystic Power was transferred into her Meridians, that drug potency was like a flame doused with oil.

Not only did it not subside, but it burned even more fiercely.

Han Qingxue let out a muffled groan, her whole body arching, her back tense, sweat soaking through her clothes.

Ye Yun hurriedly withdrew his Mystic Power, his expression changing slightly.

"It's useless."

Han Qingxue said, panting, her voice so hoarse it was almost unintelligible.

"I tried just now... the more I suppress it, the fiercer it gets; the more I block it, the deeper it goes."

Ye Yun's hand froze in mid-air.

He remembered when they were in the Fengyun Mountains, Wen Yulan had been struck by soft charm powder; he had used his Mystic Power to help her force the poison out, but the more he forced it, the fiercer it became.

Fang Hansu had been struck by the Spring Breeze Powder, and it had also become more violent the more it was suppressed.

This kind of vile drug seemed to have a common characteristic.

It could not be forcibly suppressed with Mystic Power; it could only...

Han Qingxue suddenly reached out and grabbed the hand he had placed on her shoulder.

Her hand was scorching, and her slender fingers gripped his wrist with enough force to almost crush his bones.

She raised her head to look at him.

In those eyes surged emotions he had never seen before: pain, struggle, and endurance.

And a trace of desire that she herself was unwilling to admit.

"Junior Brother."

Han Qingxue looked at him, her eyelashes trembling violently.

"You... you can save me, right? You said before that you know how to cure this kind of poison."

Ye Yun looked into her eyes.

"I do."

He paused.

"But Senior Sister, you said earlier that it wouldn't do."

Han Qingxue's fingers gripped even tighter.

She turned her face away, not daring to look into his eyes, her voice as light as a strand of spider silk about to break.

"If... if it weren't you. If it were someone else."

She didn't continue, but Ye Yun understood.

If it weren't him, she would rather die than let anyone touch her.

But if it were him—

"Are you sure?"

Ye Yun's voice lowered.

Han Qingxue did not answer.

Her hand was still gripping his wrist, the scorching temperature transmitting through his palm.

Then, she nodded, ever so slightly.

Ye Yun did not ask again.

He leaned down, one hand supporting the back of her head, his fingers threading through her disheveled long hair, and kissed her lips.

Han Qingxue's lips were very soft and very hot, carrying a faint, sweet, and metallic scent.

She clearly had no experience, simply accepting it passively, her lips slightly parted, not knowing what she should do.

Ye Yun patiently guided her, his tongue gently tracing the line of her lips, bit by bit prying open her teeth.

Han Qingxue's body suddenly tensed.

Her hands subconsciously pressed against his chest.

But there was no force of rejection.

They were only gripping the fabric of his lapels tightly, gripping them until her knuckles turned white.

Her eyelashes brushed against his face, feeling itchy, trembling violently.

Ye Yun's hand slid down from the back of her head and landed on her back.

Through the thin garment soaked in sweat, he gently stroked her spine.

Han Qingxue's breathing became increasingly rapid, her chest heaving violently, and the hands pressing against his chest gradually loosened their grip on his lapels.

Then her arms slowly lifted and climbed around his neck.

The movement was very light, very hesitant, as if she were testing, and yet as if she were making a great resolve.

Her wrists were very slender, the wrist bones slightly protruding, gleaming with a faint, pale-blue white under the moonlight.

Her ten fingers, because of years of holding a sword, had distinct knuckles and rounded fingertips.

At this moment, they were gently hooked around the back of Ye Yun's neck, the force as light as a feather.

Her nails were trimmed very short and neatly, with no polish on them, clean and tidy.

Exuding a sense of cold, ascetic restraint.

Yet these very same cold, ascetic hands were now clinging to a man's neck.

Her fingertips were trembling slightly, leaving a few shallow red marks on the back of his neck.

Ye Yun's breathing suddenly became heavy.

His hand slid down from her back and landed on her waist.

Through the thin layer of clothing, he could feel the slenderness and suppleness of her waist.

And that faint line of muscle along her waist, the mark left by years of sword practice.