The Sickly Scion's Petite Wife Is Sweet And Cool

Chapter 33: 33


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Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

After knocking out the last assassin, Shen Yijia threw away the sword in her hand.

She was about to say something when her ears pricked up. Her gaze shifted to the night, and she shot off into the rain.

Song Jingchen couldn’t stop her in time and watched as the figure disappeared into the night.

Once again, he felt helpless.

Before he could worry for long, Shen Yijia returned. She was drenched, and carried one black-clothed man in each arm.

Tossing them into the group of people she’d knocked unconscious, she wiped the rain from her face.

Looking in Song Jingchen’s direction, she smiled proudly and said, “I didn’t let them escape.”

After saying that, she kicked the attackers a few more times. It was these two people who had almost injured her husband with their arrows.

Song Jingchen heaved a sigh of relief and motioned for Shen Yijia to come over. He took her hand and examined it carefully. “Are you injured?”

Shen Yijia shook her head. She puffed out his chest and said sincerely, “They can’t hurt me!”

Song Jingchen was so amused by antics that he wanted to laugh. He glanced down and noticed the slight curves under her wet clothes.

Awkwardly, he looked away.

Madam Li called Shen Yijia into the carriage to change her clothes.

Shen Yijia went over obediently, not noticing Song Jingchen’s slightly red ears.

When she came out after changing, she saw that Song Jingchen was getting someone to pull off the black cloth on those people’s faces.

Shen Yijia walked over and said in surprise, “Eh, why is there a moon on their faces?”

The appearance of the last man in black was exposed. Without exception, everyone had a crescent mark on their right cheek.

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“Young Master, they are…” Uncle Yang looked at Song Jingchen solemnly.

Song Jingchen waved his hand to stop Uncle Yang and said indifferently, “Kill them all.”

This was not the first time suicide warriors with a crescent mark on their faces tried to assassinate him. However, he never found out who was behind them. The only thing he could confirm was that these people were not sent by Emperor Chong’an.

After a pause, he looked at Shen Yijia and suddenly added, “These people are all suicide warriors. From the moment they receive the mission, unless they die, they will not stop until they complete it.”

Shen Yijia only knocked these people unconscious and didn’t kill them. Song Jingchen assumed that Shen Yijia couldn’t bear to kill them.

He couldn’t help but explain it to her.

“Huh?” Shen Yijia was stunned for a moment before she reacted. “Then just kill them! I… I’m just not used to killing people…”

After all, she’d grown up in the twenty-first century. No matter how deranged the people in the compound were, they wouldn’t kill anyone openly, let alone so many people.

Song Jingchen took a deep look at Shen Yijia and didn’t say anything. He glanced at Uncle Yang, signaling for him to kill them.

The rain did not stop until noon the next day. Three of the ten guards were too injured to travel.

Lin Mu assigned two people to bring them to a nearby town to recuperate.

Shen Yijia did not know if it was her imagination, but she felt that these people were much more polite to her than before.

For example, if the carriage passed by a certain town, as long as she lifted the curtain and looked at the food with a drooling expression, a guard would bring the food to her.

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Furthermore, if they stayed in an inn, one of the guards would go up and pay the bill without her reminding them.

At first, Shen Yijia found it interesting, until she realized that every time someone gave her something, Song Jingchen’s face would darken for a long time.

Thinking that Song Jingchen didn’t like these guards, she stopped lifting the curtain and looking around.

In the end, she saw that some snacks would be prepared in the carriage every day.

Shen Yijia felt a sweetness in her heart. She did not know why, but she felt that it was better than the food those guards bought for her.

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