The remarkable precision of the shot, from such a distance, spoke volumes of the archer's profound skill.
In an instant, Feng Yinwan's heart leaped into her throat.
*Bad! Jian Ye and the others...*
Giving her no chance to hesitate, several more cold arrows were loosed in rapid succession.
Feng Yinwan's Qinggong, taught to her personally by Luo Qingyi, made evasion relatively easy when she was prepared.
However, by the time she dodged all the arrows and landed, the iron box had already been snatched up by the man and clutched protectively to his chest.
As the Dream Soul Powder dissipated, the illusions before her eyes finally gave way to reality.
Seeing that the "general" before her was actually a woman, and that the soldiers behind her had transformed into men in black, the man was instantly enraged.
"Damn you, cunning Central Plains folk, to dare use sorcery!"
The Dream Soul Powder was broken, but the poison in his left arm had not yet receded, thus he could only fight Feng Yinwan with one hand.
The power of the short hammer was not to be underestimated, yet after a few exchanges, all its blows were deftly neutralized by Feng Yinwan, putting him at a disadvantage.
The encirclement had tightened, and with Jian Ye and the others' situation uncertain, Feng Yinwan's grip on the man's left arm intensified in her anxiety.
"Hand it over, or I'll cripple your other arm!"
She exerted considerable internal force, targeting a vulnerable pressure point. The man grimaced in pain, but his hand protecting the box did not budge.
"You wish!"
Feng Yinwan frowned, a sharp glint flashing in her eyes.
With a "crack," the man's shoulder blade was dislocated. She then sealed three silver needles into his right arm and, with fingers like claws, reached directly for the man's embrace.
The immense pain caused the man's movements to falter for a moment. In that instant, Feng Yinwan's fingertips successfully touched the surface of the box.
Just as she was about to retrieve it, her wrist was violently seized by the man. His grip was as heavy as forged iron, as if he were throwing his life away.
"You will not take the sacred artifact!"
From behind her, several more cold arrows flew.
She wanted to dodge, but the man tightly clamped her slender neck with his arm, and no matter how she struck his chest, he did not loosen his hold.
There was no time.
She had prepared herself to be hit, but at the last second, a figure suddenly appeared to shield her.
The arrows pierced the silence.
Three in total, they all embedded themselves in Song Qing'an's back.
The expression of the person before her turned pale in an instant, and Feng Yinwan's beautiful eyes snapped open, a hint of crimson coloring them.
"Yu Zhi!"
A tear at the corner of her eye, almost instinctively, fell.
There was no time to investigate. She broke free from the man's restraint and steadied Song Qing'an, while nearby, the remaining soldiers of the Bei Shang Kingdom and the Imperial Guards closed in.
"Miss, we cannot delay any longer!"
The number of Imperial Guards was overwhelming. Moreover, for some reason, they seemed to have anticipated the poison; as they emerged, they all covered their mouths and noses, leaving them no opportunity at all.
Now that Song Qing'an was wounded, if he fell into the hands of the Imperial Guards, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Feng Yinwan's brow furrowed, and half-supporting him, she leaped onto horseback.
"Retreat!"
However, the enemy did not intend to let them escape.
"Trying to flee?"
The man she had repelled earlier, now violently shook out the silver needles from his right arm, then, wielding his short hammer, he pursued them.
With a single strike, he hit the horse's leg.
The blow unbalanced the horse, causing it to tumble and fall immediately.
Feng Yinwan, one hand supporting Song Qing'an, was about to engage the man with her other hand when a figure descended from behind her, moving faster than she could.
The moment the blow was struck, she recognized the identity of this person.
Her expression froze, a hint of astonishment appearing.
Feng Wuxi turned his gaze to scold her, "What are you standing there for? Go!"
The situation was critical. Feng Yinwan glanced at him and nodded.
"Be careful."
Although they were outnumbered, fortunately, every member of the Xuanmen possessed martial arts skills. With their strength concentrated, they quickly opened a breakthrough.
Feng Yinwan directly used Qinggong to carry Song Qing'an away. As her figure landed from horseback, she seemed to glimpse a figure cloaked in deep ink at the valley's peak.
Her beautiful eyes narrowed instantly.
*It's him?!*
Having been struck by three arrows, Song Qing'an had already lost consciousness.
The arrows were the commonly used double-hook light feather arrows in the army. Once embedded, the two barbs on the arrowhead would tightly grip the flesh and blood. If forcibly pulled out, it would inevitably tear skin and flesh, causing excruciating pain.
Helpless, Feng Yinwan could only break off the arrow shafts before addressing the wounds.
Her dark outer robe removed, a large patch of crimson stained the frost-white inner garment.
Feng Yinwan's vision heated up. Before she could reach out to lift the inner garment, her fingertips were clasped.
Song Qing'an, she didn't know when he had woken up. The hand resting on her wrist had little strength, but Feng Yinwan still paused her movement and patiently explained.
"I need to treat your wounds."
The arrowheads still remained inside him, and the blood had matted the clothing to his skin. To remove the arrowheads, his clothes would have to be taken off.
Unexpectedly, Song Qing'an shook his head upon hearing this.
"No need, just pull them out directly."
As a soldier himself, he knew perfectly well the structure of the double-hook light feather arrows.
Pulling them out like that would surely be agonizingly painful.
"No! I can carefully extract them for you. Why would we pull them out directly?"
Even from the perspective of professional medical ethics, she would never allow such a hasty procedure.
But at this moment, Song Qing'an was unusually insistent.
"It's fine. If you can't bring yourself to do it, I'll do it myself."
As he spoke, he reached to touch them himself. Seeing this, Feng Yinwan quickly restrained him.
"Are you crazy?"
"Wan'er, let go of me."
"No!"
He was stubbornly unwilling, and his chest heaved, the breath he had just gathered dissipating again.
Seeing this, Feng Yinwan's heart tightened. She quickly loosened her grip somewhat. Seeing that his complexion had improved, she spoke again.
"I say, young master Song, would you cooperate?"
As she said this, Song Qing'an's wrist was still held behind him. She looked down, her charming eyes drooping slightly.
The posture, in fact, held a hint of ambiguity.
The moisture in his eyes had not yet faded. Song Qing'an stared blankly for a moment, then averted his gaze, his earlobes slightly flushed.
"It's not that I'm unwilling to cooperate, but there's a distinction between men and women. How can you..."
Feng Yinwan was stunned.
Just as she was about to call him pedantic, she reconsidered. The mindset of ancient people and modern people were, after all, different. Moreover, Song Qing'an had always been a man of etiquette.
She pursed her lips and spoke earnestly, "I am a healer. Healing the sick and saving lives knows no gender."
Besides, the wounds were on his back, not elsewhere...
Did he perhaps secretly have eight-pack abs that he was afraid she would see?
Song Qing'an still shook his head. "No."
Feng Yinwan was at her wit's end with him.
"Then how about this, I'll use scissors to cut it open for you, alright? I'll only cut the cloth near the wound."
It was only three holes, a patch about the size of a palm.
After a moment of hesitation, Song Qing'an reluctantly accepted this suggestion.
Not wanting to delay, Feng Yinwan immediately turned to get the scissors, failing to notice the subtle sigh of relief from the person behind her.