Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 514 The Princess Who Wants to Compilation 11

At this moment, looking at her peaceful profile in deep sleep, Shen Ji's heart surged with huge waves, and extremely complex emotions violently hit him:

They were enemies fighting for life and death just a moment ago, but now they were sleeping in each other's arms in such an intimate and even dependent manner?

The scene was beyond his wildest imagination, making him feel as if he were in a bizarre, endless nightmare. The line between reality and memory was blurred, making him dizzy.

What lies behind this "clinging"? Is it a deeper trap? Another form of humiliation and control?

When she wakes up, how will she settle accounts with his "treasonous" and crazy behavior last night?

Just imagining her opening her eyes and looking at him again with those all-seeing eyes, Shen Ji's heart felt like it was being gripped by an ice-cold hand.

Not only did this arm of his fail to uphold justice and kill the enemy, but it also became the enemy's pillow without his knowledge?

This feeling made him feel more disgusted and ashamed than any whipping. The arm around her seemed like a branding iron that didn't belong to him, burning every nerve in him and making him scream.

Although overwhelmed by hatred, the soft body tightly wrapped in his arms, the warmth and breath of life, could not be completely ignored.

This weak, instinctive reaction made him hate himself even more - he hated his weakness, and hated that his mortal body could have such a despicable reaction in such a situation full of deep hatred.

His eyes subconsciously glanced towards the corner of the wall - the corner of the carpet that was soaked in wine and then scorched by candlelight was clearly visible, like a huge and ugly scar, silently indicating the crime he committed last night in his dementia that was enough to kill his entire clan!

Every breath reminded him that he was lying on a powder keg and would be crushed to pieces if he was not careful.

Shen Ji's heart was filled with cold despair.

He wanted to pull his arms back and escape from this suffocating soft cage immediately, but his body was as stiff as petrified.

He was afraid of waking her up, and even more afraid of waking her up to her unpredictable cruelty. He could only hold his breath, remaining still in an almost masochistic posture, letting the complex and turbulent emotions churn and crash through his chest, like the silent roar of a trapped animal in a cage.

In this dead silence, the woman in his arms seemed to be disturbed by the light. She frowned slightly, and her thick eyelashes trembled slightly.

Shen Ji's heart instantly rose to his throat.

Yun Chu's lazy cat-like eyelashes slowly opened, and after the misty mist when she just woke up dissipated, the sharp light was like a dagger drawn from its sheath, accurately locking onto Shen Ji's pale and tense face.

She didn't move, still nestled in his arms, only tilting her head slightly, letting the morning light outline the red marks on the side of her neck that had faded but were still clear - those were the fingerprints left by Shen Ji when he lost control last night.

An elusive smile spread across her slightly parted red lips, neither angry nor resentful, but with a chilling chill.

"Heh..." She yawned softly, her voice hoarse from just waking up, and said slowly, "Mr. Shen's face is even tighter than this imperial desk."

She lightly brushed one of her slender fingers across his stiff chest, the nail polish that had fallen off last night still lingered on her nails, a hint of its luster.

"What's wrong?" She raised herself slightly, leaned closer to him, and exhaled warmly, "Where did the strength that pushed me down last night go? Hmm?"

Shen Ji only felt his throat tighten. The finger that passed across his chest seemed to carry an electric current, instantly crushing his remaining courage.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

The red lips moved closer again, almost touching his earlobe, and she breathed softly: "Shen Ji..." The fingers slowly slid towards his waist, and before they could slide down quickly, they were caught by Shen Ji.

A hoarse voice, with a hint of danger, "Stop it!"

"I'm just making trouble, what can you do to me?" Yun Chu suddenly laughed.

Looking at Yun Chu's beautiful smile, Shen Ji felt an indescribable feeling in his heart.

……

By noon, Shen Ji was the only one left in the room, while Yun Chu went to the martial arts training ground to practice swordplay without hesitation.

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and dewdrops rolled on the grass leaves at the edge of the training ground.

This is Yun Chu's unshakable daily schedule - no matter how absurd "last night" was, no matter how others criticized her for being lustful and extravagant, at this time, she must appear in this secluded and empty place.

Most people in the palace were still asleep or busy preparing the princess's luxurious breakfast and dressing. Only the trusted guards knew that the martial arts training ground was their master's forbidden area.

Liu Rufeng was so restless that he hardly slept.

At daybreak, he heard the slightest rustle of clothes and the sound of a door being pushed open. Through the gap in the window, he happened to see a figure in plain tights swiftly and unobtrusively flashing into the corridor in the backyard, heading towards the martial arts training ground.

Is she going to practice martial arts again? That dissolute princess who indulges in sensual pleasures and revels every night?

A strong curiosity, tinged with sarcasm, overwhelmed his resentment and unwillingness. He quickly changed into a light blue uniform that was easy to move in but not too conspicuous, and quietly followed, hiding in the shadows behind a row of weapon racks.

In the arena, Yun Chu had already begun. She wasn't wearing the luxurious and elaborate attire of a princess, but rather a clean, neat training suit with tightly gathered cuffs, outlining the unusually slender figure of an eighteen-year-old girl.

Her black hair was tied up high, fixed with only a simple hairband, revealing her smooth forehead and sharp, focused eyes.

The rising sun cast a light golden edge around her body, making her look completely different from the drunken and powdered image she had last night.

Clang!

The sound of a resounding sword sounded the beginning of the battle. In her hand was not a fancy, expensive sword, but a simple-looking, yet cold, three-foot-long blade.

The initial movements were still a bit unfamiliar, as Yun Chu was adapting to this new body that had not experienced the tempering of the apocalypse.

But her consciousness, the combat instinct accumulated from countless mission worlds, quickly took over everything.

The basic movements—opening stance, thrust, slash, tap, collapse, and twist—were practiced meticulously and with utter precision. There were no flashy sword flowers, only the swift sound of cutting through the air and the concise trajectory of the sword.

Every movement embodies indescribable power and smoothness, as if it has been carved through thousands of trials and tribulations.

Gradually, the speed is getting faster and faster!

The sword seemed to come alive in her hand, transforming into a dazzling curtain of light.

Suddenly, it was like a violent storm, fierce and swift, the air was torn apart and let out a mournful whine; suddenly, it was like a mountain stream, continuous and endless, the sword's power was smooth and perfect, without any flaws; the next moment, it turned into a fleeting shadow, the body followed the sword, leaving a trail of afterimages on the scene!

Every move is perfect!

Basic sword techniques evolved into a myriad of forms in her hands. Her figure leaped and dove, sometimes like a white crane spreading its wings, ethereal and ethereal; sometimes like a tiger descending the mountain, imposing and powerful; suddenly, she transformed into a spirited snake, spitting out its tongue, cunning and treacherous.

When he lowered his waist and mounted his horse, the blue bricks under his feet seemed to groan under the heavy pressure; when he leaped up, his body was as light as a weight, and he rushed straight up for more than ten feet. With a flick of his wrist, several leaves that had just been blown off by the morning breeze were precisely cut in half in the air and fell silently.