But by the time she tried to stop him, it was already too late. Guan Yingjie had shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow, with no possibility of stopping.
She could only watch helplessly as her junior brother plunged into the white haze.
Guan Yingjie could not stand by and watch her come under attack, and how could she stand by and watch him fall into danger because of her? She abruptly drew a breath and sprang forward, disregarding her still-unsettled organs, charging toward that cloud of white haze herself.
The instant she moved, the wind tore away all the half-ruined clothing still hanging from her upper body. Her skirts fluttered into shreds and peeled away from her.
With her long hair streaming in the wind, Mulan Qingqing was suddenly left bare-armed in a vest, both snow-white arms exposed. The combination of trousers and a vest looked strange, yet alluringly sensual.
She had no time to worry about propriety now. Saving him came first; as for her own reputation, she had long since given up on it.
Watching the fight, Wu Jinliang had already roared, "If you can't stand losing, don't play! Is this a fucking duel?"
He was so furious he nearly shouldered his saber and charged into the arena. But he had always known his own limitations. Without his treasured armor, rushing in to fight someone at advanced martial upper attainment-especially a Suyuan Sect disciple-would be courting death. So he held himself back.
"Shameless!"
"Can't stand losing!"
The whole ragtag mob erupted into jeers. How could they not be furious?
The elite contingent was indeed somewhat embarrassed by this, though they could understand Guan Yingjie's actions. If something truly happened to Mulan Qingqing, it would be no small matter.
As Mulan Qingqing hurtled through the air