Beichen Yuan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and was about to speak, only to find that he couldn’t utter a single word.

The moment he opened his mouth, he felt numbness spreading through it, and his entire body was paralyzed.

Shen Qingwan had just stabbed him with an acupuncture needle laced with a numbing agent, rendering him completely immobile.

He couldn’t even speak.

Serves him right for having such a sharp tongue.

A dagger slid across his body in Shen Qingwan’s hand.

He was dressed in a black inner robe, which had become disheveled from their earlier fight.

His chest was partially exposed, revealing a broad expanse of skin.

As Shen Qingwan vengefully flicked open his lapels, eight well-defined abs instantly came into view.

However, a deep knife wound marred his abdomen, and due to the intense battle, the wound had split open again, staining his chiseled torso with fresh blood.

Shen Qingwan couldn’t help but admire the sight for a moment.

Humans really were visual creatures—just looking at those abs instantly dissipated her earlier frustration.

In fact, it almost felt like a waste for such a handsome man to die.

But she had no intention of treating his wound.

She was going to throw him out of the window.

This bastard dared to break into her room—he shouldn’t even dream of leaving it alive.

Given his current state, the fall would surely be fatal.

Beichen Yuan seethed with humiliation as he watched Shen Qingwan’s scrutinizing gaze and audacious actions.

This woman had absolutely no shame—she had stripped open his robe and was openly ogling him!

If he weren’t suffering from both external and internal injuries, temporarily unable to use his inner strength, she wouldn’t have stood a chance against him.

Just as murderous intent flashed in Beichen Yuan’s eyes—determined to kill this woman at all costs—he suddenly felt himself being lifted.

Beichen Yuan hadn’t expected her to be this strong.

More importantly, what was she planning?

Before he could think further, he saw her carrying him towards the window.

Beichen Yuan’s expression darkened instantly.

Just as he decided to forcefully activate his inner strength and strike her down, he noticed that her steps had suddenly halted.

Shen Qingwan had spotted something wrong—the cabinet by the window.

She was certain there had never been a cabinet under her window before.

When did it get there?

Looking around the room again, she finally realized—this wasn’t her room.

She immediately felt as though her feet were weighed down with lead.

Her arms, still holding Beichen Yuan, froze in place.

She wasn’t sure if she should let go or hold on tighter.

“Uh… this… doesn’t seem to be my room?”

So, had she just barged into someone else’s room in the middle of the night, slapped them, mistaken them for a thief, and was now about to throw them out of a window to their death?

She was the actual intruder.

An overwhelming sense of awkwardness washed over her.

She slowly turned around and carefully placed Beichen Yuan back on the bed.

Just as she was about to slip away unnoticed, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

In the next instant, the world spun, and before she knew it, she was pinned beneath him.

A strong, muscular arm pressed firmly against her delicate, slender throat, making it nearly impossible for her to breathe.

She hadn’t expected this man to be so powerful.

How had he overcome the effects of the anesthetic so quickly?

Beichen Yuan had bitten the tip of his tongue, using the pain to force his body to override the numbness.

The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as the paralysis gradually faded.

“Who are you? Who sent you?”

He refused to believe that she had simply entered the wrong room.

With such formidable combat skills, she had to be an assassin from some faction.

But how had they tracked him down when his movements were so well-concealed?

Shen Qingwan rasped out, “I really entered the wrong room. My room is right next door. If you don’t believe me, you can go check.”

It was all because there were too many windows on this floor—each room had three of them! Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made this mistake.

Beichen Yuan didn’t believe a word she said. He leaned in closer, prepared to press for more answers, but suddenly, he realized something.

His current position was… problematic.

He was straddling her.

The woman beneath him was only wearing a thin inner robe, and the struggle had caused the fabric at her chest to slip open, revealing a generous expanse of fair skin.

Her soft body was pressed beneath him, and her delicate fragrance lingered in the air.

Meanwhile, his own robe was still undone, exposing his muscular chest, broad shoulders, and narrow waist.

If not for the blood still oozing from his wound, this scene would have been scandalously intimate.

Shen Qingwan became aware of the situation as well. Furious, she sank her teeth into his arm.

Caught off guard, Beichen Yuan gritted his teeth in pain.

His hand instinctively released its grip on her.

Seizing the opportunity, Shen Qingwan shot upright.

The sudden movement brought their faces alarmingly close, making Beichen Yuan recoil in shock.

His usual composed demeanor cracked for a brief moment as he scrambled backward in a rare display of clumsiness.

Shen Qingwan took advantage of his flustered state, leaped off the bed, grabbed her clothes, and bolted.

Beichen Yuan instinctively wanted to chase after her, but his injuries were too severe.

He had no choice but to sit down and tend to his wounds first.

His injury had already scabbed over, but after tonight’s struggle, the wound had reopened.

He would have to rest for several more days now.

“Master?”

Xuantian, his subordinate, had just returned, only to find his lord in a thoroughly disheveled state, tending to his wounds alone.

Alarmed, Xuantian rushed forward to assist him.

“Master, how did your wound reopen? Didn’t the military doctor say that as long as you avoided combat, it wouldn’t tear?”

As Xuantian spoke, he looked up at Beichen Yuan—only to notice a bright red handprint on his master’s face.

His heart nearly stopped.

Dear heavens.

Who could have possibly slapped his master?

More importantly—who dared to?

He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The mark was still there. His voice trembled.

“Mas… Master, your face…”

Beichen Yuan touched his cheek, his fingers brushing over the stinging imprint.

Without a word, he grabbed the half-moon silver mask from his bedside and secured it over his face.

He had only taken it off because it was uncomfortable to sleep in.

Unfortunately, the mask only covered half his face, leaving a faint trace of the red mark visible.

At least it no longer looked like a handprint.

His gaze dropped to his arm, where clear bite marks were embedded in his skin.

His jaw tightened. His voice was cold and laced with fury.

“Go capture the woman next door. Bring her to me.”

He was going to skin that crazy woman alive.

For years, barely any woman had ever gotten close to him—let alone dared to strike him.

Yet, this one had slapped him, bit him, and humiliated him all in a single night.

Under normal circumstances, just one of these offenses would have been enough for him to cut someone into pieces.

And yet, every single one of them had been committed by the same woman.

His anger was indescribable.

He had already devised a hundred different ways to make her suffer.

There was no way he was letting her off.