The First Summoner - Chapter 89

Had he suddenly emerged from the ability space just to ask such a pointless question?

Shen Yan put away the Crimson Flame Dagger.

Feng Xingyao’s expression stiffened slightly at her answer.

“I’m exhausted,” she said. “If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, go back.”

It was an unmistakable order to leave.

A smile surfaced on his handsome face. “With so many injuries, can you recover before the entrance test?”

Shen Yan’s gaze sharpened. “What are you trying to say?”

He slowly leaned closer, his flawless face enlarging before her eyes. His gaze seemed tender and faintly amused, a vortex capable of drawing in the unwary.

“I owe you three conditions. I can fulfill one now.”

His sudden approach made Shen Yan frown.

Only then did she realize they were sharing a bed, with barely eight inches between them.

Her frown deepened. “What exactly do you mean?”

Disheveled black hair spilled over Feng Xingyao’s shoulders. With his dark, unfathomable eyes and wicked beauty, he looked utterly bewitching. His eyes slanted down as he regarded her with a half smile.

“I can make your injuries disappear.”

Shen Yan narrowed her eyes.

She had suspected his blood could heal others, but she had not expected him to peel back his secrets before her little by little.

The gesture left her conflicted.

She was indeed badly wounded.

But she had never intended to ask Feng Xingyao for help.

Before she could refuse, his pleasant voice drifted over.

“If you’re not in peak condition, how will you distinguish yourself in that academy’s entrance test? Shen Yan, I know you want to find your younger brother.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his.

Feng Xingyao’s gaze was cool and detached, seemingly devoid of emotion as he looked at her.

His crimson lips parted. “I merely want to fulfill your three requests sooner, and then… leave.”

At that, Shen Yan sat up to face him.

After a moment’s silence, she said, “Fine.”

Feng Xingyao cut the pad of one finger. A bead of blood welled up, and he held it to her lips, signaling with his eyes.

Shen Yan lowered her gaze to his finger. After hesitating for several seconds, she parted her lips and was about to take it into her mouth when she abruptly stopped.

She closed her mouth again.

Feng Xingyao looked at her in confusion.

Shen Yan turned toward a teacup on the distant table and used spiritual power to draw it over. Then she seized his finger and squeezed his blood into the cup.

He froze.

Warm, soft fingers held his hand, making the sting of the cut insignificant.

He lowered his eyes to the girl before him. Her head was bowed in concentration, loose strands of hair falling around her face. An indescribable feeling stirred within him.

He stared, lost for a moment, and a trace of gentleness entered his eyes.

When Shen Yan finished, she looked up to tell him it was enough—

His figure vanished.

It looked almost like he had fled.

He had returned to the ability space.

Shen Yan frowned and asked through their mental link, “Why did you go back so quickly?”

His smile deepened. “Reluctant to see me leave?”

Shen Yan ignored him.

There was not much blood in the cup, but she thought it sufficient.

After hesitating, she silently told herself not to think of Feng Xingyao as a person, but as a fox. What she was about to drink was merely fox blood.

She drained it in one gulp.

Her injuries healed at astonishing speed.

Then her body began burning.

She felt miserable and dizzy.

Shen Yan immediately told Feng Xingyao what was happening. “Why do I feel like this?”

Inside the ability space, he frowned, his gaze deepening. He had assumed she could withstand the blood’s side effects, but had overlooked one thing: her power was almost negligible compared with those people.

All of Shen Yan’s exposed skin had turned red. Steam was rising from her body.

“Feng Xingyao!” she demanded an answer.

The next instant, he appeared on the bed and pulled her into his arms.

Shen Yan instinctively resisted, but he pinned her down.

“Don’t move,” he said hoarsely.

Dizzy, Shen Yan forced open her eyes and glared at him with a chilling promise that even if she died, she would drag him into hell.

“Your blood…”

“Relax. It wasn’t poisoned.”

He bent over her.

Her pupils contracted as his shadow fell across her. When something soft touched the space between her brows, her entire body went rigid in disbelief.

He was kissing her?!

She was about to summon the Crimson Flame Dagger and teach this rogue a lesson when his clear voice sounded beside her ear.

“Stop struggling. I’m drawing out the excess blood energy.”

Her thoughts were muddled from drinking his blood, but his warmth and scent remained unmistakably clear.

His vivid lips hovered just above her brow as faint bloody light emerged from her skin and flowed into his mouth.

Shen Yan watched through blurred vision. She could make out the taut line of his neck. His black hair spilled into the hollow of her neck, sending tingles across her skin.

Her heart seemed to be beating too fast.

As her gaze gradually focused and the haze receded, she somehow asked, “Feng Xingyao, are you truly a fox?”

“You don’t like foxes?”

“That wasn’t my question. If you’re a fox, I’ll treat you as a fox. If you aren’t, then I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Wicked amusement gleamed in his eyes.

Shen Yan pressed her lips together. “Nothing.”

“If I am a fox, do you intend to make me your pet? And if I’m not, what do you want me to be?”

She suddenly regretted raising the subject. Whether he was a fox had nothing to do with her.

“Move—”

Her voice cut off and her heart skipped a beat.

Feng Xingyao kissed her brow again, then leaned toward her neck as though breathing in her scent. His presence was so overpowering that she froze.

“Shen Yan,” he drawled, his lazy voice holding an unfamiliar gentleness, “what are you to me, that you should ask about my secrets?”