Pitter-patter~
Rain rustled outside the door. Inside the old shop crowded with musical instruments, the only other sound was the faint noise of the elderly shopkeeper repairing a zither.
Nangong Ye examined a bamboo flute, the lake of her heart seemingly undisturbed by the stranger's sudden visit. After all, she had become renowned throughout the world in her early teens. Whether serving as sect leader or traveling incognito through Jianghu, she had encountered far too many boors who presumptuously approached her like this. She had never paid them any attention.
Normally, after being rebuffed, the other party would have the sense to leave. If they felt humiliated and dared cause trouble, he did not mind rewarding them with a couple of sword strikes.
But the white-robed young gentleman who had approached him today was indeed rather unusual. Not only was he thick-skinned, but he was also more capable than those other idlers.
Xie Jinhuan actually felt rather embarrassed after being ignored. He had intended to leave tactfully, but A Piao was also studying this black-robed heroine and offered advice in his ear:
"Judging by her breathing, this heroine has excessive yang energy. She seems to have contracted some kind of yang poison."
Oh?
Xie Jinhuan blinked, considered it, then walked over to the other side of the shop and said quietly:
"Miss, you seem unwell. Have you been poisoned?"
"?"
Nangong Ye's eyes narrowed slightly beneath his veiled hat. He put down the bamboo flute, scrutinized the white-robed gentleman, then stepped closer:
"How could you tell?"
His voice was cool and ethereal, like ice that had remained frozen for ten thousand years, with an undercurrent of pressure.
From that single sentence, Xie Jinhuan knew this young lady was a high-performance race car-not only a fuel guzzler, but beyond the average