TSFLIP Chapter 819

The bandit blinked, staring at the man in white as though he’d lost his mind.
“What did you just say? Don’t tell me this lunatic’s madness has rubbed off on you.”

The man’s lips curved into a slow, disarmingly charming smile. “I’m afraid I can’t let you take her.”

“Oh, really?” The bandit’s face darkened. “Let’s see how a cripple plans to take his ‘spoils’ back from me.”

The man’s slender fingers brushed the rim of his teacup. With the faintest flick of his index finger, the cup spun into the air and shot forward like an arrow toward the bandit.

The bandit scoffed, thinking he could easily catch it—but as the cup drew near, he suddenly felt the pressure of a powerful force rippling through the air. His smirk vanished. He dropped the rope in his hand and yanked the knife from his belt.

Steel clashed with porcelain—then shattered. The blade broke clean in half, and the teacup slammed into the bandit’s chest, hurling him backward several paces before he hit the ground, coughing up blood.

Clutching his chest, he glared up in disbelief. “Such… such power. Who the hell are you!?”

Fengguang stared at the man in white, her mind spinning. She’d never imagined that someone who looked so frail could wield that kind of strength. That bandit wasn’t just some petty thief—and yet, he hadn’t even stood a chance.

The man lifted his gaze toward her. A soft, beautiful smile touched his lips as he reached for her wrist. With a light pull, her body spun, landing gently in his lap.

Her ropes fell away—cleanly severed. Before she could even process what had just happened, he tilted her chin up between his fingers.

His voice was low and smooth. “What’s your name?”

“Xia Fengguang…” she murmured, dazed.

“Fengguang,” he repeated softly, his tone almost affectionate. Then, smiling, he said, “My name is Zhou Xing. Remember it—because from this day on, you belong to me.”

He was still gentle, his smile tender, but now there was something darkly magnetic behind it.

Her heart skipped several beats. She pointed weakly toward the bandit still lying on the floor. “What about… him?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Zhou Xing said, his voice low and warm. “Fengguang, I liked the way you kissed me. Let’s do it again.”

Before she could react, his lips pressed against hers—this time not a fleeting brush, but a real kiss. Deep. Fierce. Unmistakably passionate.

“Two lunatics…” the bandit muttered, dragging himself to his feet.

While they were distracted, he used what strength he had left to leap over the courtyard wall—only to land in front of several drawn blades.

At their center stood a striking young woman in official garb, her posture confident and commanding. “Well, that was easy,” she said with a smirk. “We’ve been searching high and low for you, and here you are.”

The bandit’s face turned ashen. Now he understood why the man hadn’t bothered to chase him—he’d known the place was already surrounded.

Outside the wall, the bandit was cursing his luck. Inside, Fengguang was lost in a dizzy, fluttering warmth.

When the kiss finally broke, Zhou Xing’s lips brushed against her ear. His whisper was soft enough to raise goosebumps. “You have a strange scent on you…”

She scowled. “I bathe every day!”

He chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. It’s… unusual. Something about it draws me in. Makes me want you.”

The first half of his sentence sounded proper enough—but by the end, he sounded more like a charming scoundrel than a gentleman.

A refined, dangerous scoundrel.

And Fengguang’s heart was pounding even harder.