Chapter 3: 第二章 伪装

The area was filled with excellent secret guards he had personally trained; not even a fly could fly in, let alone out.

Withdrawing his gaze, the copper-masked man coldly swept his eyes over the four most outstanding secret guards beside him and waved his hand. A cold, metallic sound rang out. "Don't let her escape, and above all, don't let her die. Otherwise, you die."

"As you command, please rest assured, Master." The powerful response was so spirited it startled the birds in the surrounding area.

With this terrain and these guards, this was his territory; he would not allow any accidents to occur.

Proud as he was, he had never known the meaning of failure. Thinking this, he turned indifferently, exerted his lightness skill, and departed.

By the time Feng Feixuan woke up again, it was already night. The room was pitch black. This sleep felt as though she had slept for half a century; her entire body was so sore it felt as if she had been taken apart and reassembled. No matter how she moved, she felt limp and weak, and even breathing brought waves of sharp pain.

Recalling the humiliation of the day, Feng Feixuan struggled to suppress the hatred in her heart. She knew well the principle that a gentleman's revenge is never too late, even after ten years; for now, survival was the priority.

Feng Feixuan sat up and licked her parched lips. A thick, bitter taste spread through her mouth, seemingly the taste of some medicine. In her daze, she remembered someone prying her mouth open to feed her something. Could it be poison?

Given the copper-masked man's viciousness, she absolutely did not believe this medicine was for her benefit.

What kind of broken era had she transmigrated into? And what kind of blood feud did this copper-masked man have with her original self that he would use such unscrupulous methods against a weak woman?

"Shit..." Feng Feixuan cursed lowly. If she had a Type 92 pistol, she would definitely turn that copper-masked devil into a honeycomb. Or if she could get her hands on some American C4 explosives, no matter how powerful his martial arts were, he'd end up without a whole corpse.

But while her imagination was beautiful, reality dealt her a naked blow. She didn't even have a knife right now, let alone firearms or explosives.

Just as she was feeling despondent, Feng Feixuan felt something strange on her left thumb. Looking closely, she saw that a jade ring was fitted onto her left thumb. It was crystal clear, allowing her to see the patterns inside distinctly, but now, those patterns seemed to faintly carry traces of blood, and the entire ring felt somewhat warm.

She hadn't noticed it before because she was too focused on fighting the copper-masked man, but looking at it now, it felt eerie. No matter how she looked at it, this thumb ring didn't look like something a young girl would wear. Moreover, it was warm all over; especially when it accidentally neared her lips, the red light flared brightly, becoming terrifyingly hot.

Why was this? Could it be that her lips held some kind of temptation? There was nothing in her mouth except the bitter taste of medicine.

However, as a disciplined special forces soldier, Feng Feixuan disliked having cumbersome items that might affect her movement. She tried to remove it, but the ring was fitted very tightly; it was likely the owner of this body had put it on when she was very young, and now it couldn't be pulled off.

She moved her thumb and found that the ring seemed very thin, and its width happened not to interfere with her thumb's movement. She didn't have much time and didn't want to waste it on this, so she decided to ignore it for the time being.

Having adapted to the darkness of the room, Feng Feixuan's vision was as clear as if it were daytime, thanks to her reconnaissance training. Enduring the pain, she got out of bed, picked up the disheveled dress from the floor, and threw it on haphazardly. She then tore the hem to wrap her two legs separately, performing the same operation on her hands, chest, and waist. In a moment, a set of tight-fitting combat attire suitable for movement and fighting appeared on her body.

Feng Feixuan lurked by the door and listened intently. She caught the faint, almost imperceptible sounds of over a dozen breaths. Although they were masking themselves well, Feng Feixuan still captured them. Without exception, these dozen or so people were all masters of combat. As for internal energy and lightness skills, although she didn't understand them, their combat effectiveness was easy to judge from their breathing.

Her strength lay in close-quarters combat and rapid lethality. But if she went out now, she wouldn't be a match for any of them.

What to do? Just as Feng Feixuan was racking her brains for a strategy, her stomach unceremoniously let out a "gurgle." She hadn't expected to be this hungry.

This body was too weak. After experiencing such a horrific ordeal of abuse during the day, she hadn't had a drop of water since. If it weren't for her high endurance as a special forces soldier, she would have been lying in bed unable to crawl up long ago.

However, although the copper-masked man was full of murderous intent today, he had only bullied her and hadn't actually killed her. Being imprisoned here was enough to prove she still had utility value; he wouldn't let her die easily until his goal was achieved.

With this analysis, an idea suddenly came to Feng Feixuan's mind.

Disguise had always been a mandatory course for special forces soldiers, and she had long since mastered it to perfection.

She silently returned to the bed and lay down, using the remaining bedsheet to cover herself tightly, leaving only her head exposed, while gripping a belt tightly in her hand. Having prepared everything, Feng Feixuan calmed her breathing for a moment, then closed her eyes and began to cry out in pain, "Water... water..."

"Water... *cough, cough*... so uncomfortable... water..." Feng Feixuan's performance grew more intense. Her mumbled words and coughing sounds in her "dream" were exactly like a feverish patient talking in their sleep.

At this moment, the two people on the roof had already noticed something unusual. The Master had said she must not be allowed to die.

The two exchanged a glance. One of them nodded and leaped down, walking toward the kitchen.

Half an hour later, the man in black returned carrying a food box. Besides the aroma of food, there was a faint medicinal scent, clearly medicine to dispel wind and cold.

*Creak!*

As the door opened, Feng Feixuan continued to mumble faintly, "Water..." but the words escaping her parched lips were weak, as if she might stop breathing at any moment.

The man in black did not dare delay. He hurriedly took the medicinal soup from the food box, sat by the bed, and fed her spoonful by spoonful.

Naturally, Feng Feixuan did not dare open her eyes, but her hand under the quilt was gripped tightly, ready to act at any moment. When her parched lips met the medicinal soup, it was like encountering long-awaited dew; she actually swallowed quite a bit with her eyes closed.

The medicine bowl soon became empty. Just as the man in black turned to set the bowl down, in a flash, Feng Feixuan's eyes snapped open. She sat up with incredible speed, the belt from her hands crossing the man's neck, finding the most lethal position with unerring precision. She exerted sudden force, tightening it instantly, not even giving him a chance to make a final sound.

No matter how good one's internal energy was, without breath, he could not cause any trouble. Moreover, Feng Feixuan was squeezing his most vital throat.

She pulled the belt in her hands with all her might, watching him struggle in agony before death.

The man in black died with his eyes wide open, his staring eyes fixed straight on Feng Feixuan. Only at the very last moment did he believe that this weak woman, who possessed no internal energy at all, had actually killed him without the slightest effort.