At six, he had taken Xiao Wu away. Then, step by step, he had unraveled Tang San's emotional bonds by getting to Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing first.
By now, Tang San had been battered and bruised on the road to love. Meng Yiran was the only light in his darkness, the pillar holding up his inner world.
Taking Meng Yiran away would not only drive Tang San to utter collapse, but also disrupt the Asura God's plans.
That lofty deity probably never imagined someone would dare destroy his chosen successor at the root, did he?
"Mm..."
A soft sigh interrupted Ye Xuan's thoughts. Meng Yiran, dressed in a pale pink nightgown and hugging herself, was walking slowly along the path.
A faint sorrow hung between her brows. She was clearly troubled by insomnia and had come out for a walk to clear her head.
Perhaps the moonlight was too dim, or perhaps she was too distracted to notice Ye Xuan beside the flower bed. She accidentally tripped over the foot he stuck out.
The moment she lost her balance, Meng Yiran's pupils contracted, and panic surged through her.
Just as she thought she was about to hit the ground, a pair of strong arms suddenly circled her waist and caught her securely against his chest.
A scorching warmth enveloped her, as comforting as a furnace, while a faint, clean scent drifted into her nose.
It was Ye Xuan's distinctive scent. Mixed with the masculine force of his Soul Power, it made her heart give a sudden flutter.
She could clearly feel the solid strength of his chest and the powerful arms holding her. The sense of being completely protected was something she had never experienced with Tang San.
Tang San's embrace was gentle, but it lacked this reassuring strength.