From Nun to Real Heiress: Expert at Turning the Tables - Chapter 394:

Chapter 394: 182 Vast Ocean (Second Shift)

Translator: 549690339

Inside the room, the young man lying on the bed suddenly leaped up, his flying dagger sliding into his palm at the same moment.

He peered through the peephole, but the corridor outside was empty.

At that moment, a knock on the door startled him once again.

In the silent night, it sent chills down his spine.

With one hand gripping the doorknob, the young man squinted and opened the door a crack.

From the gap, a cold night breeze wafted in, carrying with it an intoxicating, faint fragrance that drifted into his nostrils.

A slender, fair hand held onto the doorframe, and the youth’s eyes narrowed. The flying dagger spun in his palm, springing forth in a flash as he opened the door.

“Snap!” The room was suddenly brightly lit.

With a grin, the young lady sauntered in, her elegant hand raised as the flying dagger nailed a bullseye on the target hanging on the wall opposite.

The boy stared wide-eyed as she entered, his heart sinking instantly.

The only explanation for how she found his address so quickly was that he had been exposed from the very beginning.

If she came alone, it must mean she was fully prepared.

But in any case, there was no possibility of leaving empty-handed.

No turning back, the arrow had to be released.

The boy sprang up, a faint trace of menace shimmering between his fingers as he aimed straight for the young lady’s heart with the force of a thunderbolt.

Her back straight as a rod, the young woman strolled leisurely, seemingly oblivious to the impending danger looming behind her.

Her red lips parted slightly, and she uttered softly, “Three… two… one.”

As her words fell, the knife stopped suddenly, just half an inch from her heart. The boy’s eyes widened in disbelief, and in the next moment, he collapsed to the floor, flustered and exasperated.

From his perspective, all he could see was the hem of the girl’s skirt as she moved gracefully away.

Ming Jing walked to the window, which was sealed shut. Through the iron bars, she saw the sparse nighttime traffic on the street outside.

The boy struggled to his feet, veins bulging on the back of his hand. He stared fixedly at the figure standing by the window, cold sweat rolling down his forehead, wetting his eyelashes.

“Drip!” The beads of sweat splattered onto the floor.

“You drugged me?” The words were virtually forced through the gaps between his teeth.

“All is fair in war. This must be your first mission; you’re a bit inexperienced,” Ming Jing said as she circled the room and flipped through his ID card.

“Zhang Wei, the most popular name among assassins when in hiding, blending seamlessly into society.”

“When did you find out?”

Ming Jing picked up the cellphone, perhaps the other party was too confident as there was no password. She opened WeChat to find only one contact labeled ‘Aunt Hong’.

Ming Jing took out her cellphone, added him as a WeChat friend, and sent Aunt Hong’s contact card.

“I have too many enemies and cherish my own life too much, so I’m sorry for causing your mission to fail,” Ming Jing put the cellphone back, turned around, and squatted down in front of him, gazing into his eyes.

Those were a pair of beautiful eyes, clear and pure like a mountain spring, untainted by the slightest speck of dirt.

In those eyes, Ming Jing saw her own reflection.

Even though he was at her mercy, the boy didn’t show any signs of shame or anger, but tried to stand upright instead.

“Don’t waste your energy. This is a special sedative I concocted myself. Once exposed, it leaves one helpless for three days. If you attempt to resist, it will reverse your meridians and attack your vital organs. I’ve named it ‘Beautiful Lady.’ You see, your helpless demeanor right now is so like a beauty toyed with by fate.”

Ming Jing’s voice was soft and gentle like water, but it sounded to him like a call from hell.

“Kill me,” the boy closed his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

The boy refused to say.

Ming Jing smiled, “Saving a life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda. I’ll give you a chance to live.”

The boy opened his eyes and frowned at her.

“As per WT’s rules, failure is not an option. If you can’t bring back the head of your target, the only thing you can return with is your own. You are talented, but your master put you in the wrong place.”

Ming Jing shook her head and sighed.

The boy’s pupils shrank, his gaze filled with disbelief. “Who are you?”

Ming Jing smoothed her skirt, sublime and otherworldly, smiling faintly, “An ordinary person.”

At that moment, the aura around her seemed to envelop her like mist, emitting a faint golden hue, as if she were a divine being, holy and ephemeral, unreachable.

“You have three days to think it over,” Ming Jing smiled as she patted his shoulder and left gracefully.

As she reached the door, she stopped but didn’t turn around, “Sink forever in the darkness or walk with me on the path of redemption. The choice is in your hands.”