Outside the window, cheers echoed through the air.
Water Stream opened her eyes.
The soft morning light filtered through the cracks in the window, gently touching the beast-skin blanket that clung to her body, making her reluctant to leave the warmth of sleep. This kind of treatment was only possible after meeting Kent. Before that, sleep had always been a matter of survival, where vigilance was key—such peaceful slumbers had been a rare luxury.
Last night, they had talked for hours, as if there was an endless stream of words between them. Perhaps both of them had been unwilling to fall asleep. Gradually, it turned into one person talking while the other listened.
Naturally, she had been the one listening.
All night, Kent had rambled on about his plans for Peach Blossom City—every detail of life from food and housing to infrastructure, like he was painting a picture of the future. But Water Stream didn't find it boring. She followed his words, and in her mind, she could see the valley taking shape…
Over here would be the river valley, which would become the central residential area of the city. Over there, the industrial zone would develop modern industries. A school would be built in the flatter part of the valley, with a large sports field. On the hillside, if possible, private villas would be constructed…
"What's a villa?" she had asked him. Kent had laughed mischievously, his expression teasing, and she had been tempted to give him a few lessons in the Silent Killer Dance.
But she had been laughing too, especially at his jokes and funny riddles.
"How many steps does it take to stuff a forest bear into a hole?"
This had completely stumped her. A forest bear was huge—killing it would be easy, but stuffing it into a hole? Why even stuff it in a hole? How big was the hole? How far was the bear from it? Was the bear climbing in on its own, or was it being driven in? Was there a need for bait? Clearly, Kent had never hunted, otherwise, how could he ask such a ridiculous question?
When she had voiced her confusion, his face had been a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if the whole world knew she was the only one who didn't understand.
"So, how many steps does it take to stuff a bear into a hole?" she had asked.
"Just three steps," Kent had replied, almost doubled over with laughter as he held up three fingers.
"Three steps?" Water Stream had been infuriated. "Even the best hunter couldn't do that."
"Oh, it can be done in three steps." He had answered, utterly serious. "Step one: Catch the bear. Step two: Dig the hole. Step three: Stuff the bear into the hole." After speaking, he had clapped his hands as if the hole and bear were right in front of him. "See? Three steps."
What had happened next?
She must have beaten him up pretty hard. The details were a blur, but she remembered riding on top of him, her punches landing without real force, though she had still hit him a lot.
He had begged for mercy under her, but even without his pleas, she couldn't bring herself to truly hurt him. But then, the atmosphere had changed.
To her surprise, Kent had started fighting back.
What began as a struggle had quickly turned into a full-on fight. But Kent, with his sword training, was no match for Water Stream, who had spent her life learning survival and combat techniques. Though Kent was strong and could easily flip her over, she was no pushover either.
Let's not forget, she was a renowned Silent Killer.
As this thought crossed her mind, her body was suddenly airborne, thrown onto the bed by Kent.
The fall hadn't been painful, but there was an inexplicable sense of excitement building inside her. It felt almost like watching a lion pride—both the male and female lions rolling and wrestling together. She felt heat rise from her abdomen, and in the next moment, she leaped like a leopard, pinning Kent to the ground.
What followed was a battle of strength and skill, as they tangled with each other, a true test of her abilities.
The Silent Killer Dance was not just about technique—it was about the body's flexibility, speed, and deadly precision. At first, Kent was overwhelmed by her unexpected moves from all angles. But he adapted quickly, learning her techniques and using them against her. She could smell the sweat on his body and the strange, intoxicating masculine scent.
Her body grew hotter, both of them drenched in sweat, yet neither of them stopped the silent, intimate battle. In the end, Water Stream had to exert even more strength, using both leg locks and arm holds to trap him. But it could only last for so long. Kent's power, learning speed, and relentless spirit made him nearly impossible to beat.
Finally, her body twisted in a desperate attempt to escape, but Kent was too fast. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her back down. His breath came in quick gasps as his dominance overwhelmed her.
He roared low in his throat, and with a powerful move, he threw her back onto the bed, pouncing on top of her.
His biggest mistake had been letting her free from his grip.
Like a leopard, she shot back, narrowly dodging his attack. Her beast-skin clothes were torn, exposing her shoulder and back. Kent didn't have time to react before she landed on his back, locking her arm around his neck, trying to immobilize him.
But Kent was too quick. As her arm brushed his body, he flipped over, trapping her beneath him, and tore off the remaining part of her clothes.
Water Stream was stunned by the sudden move. Her years of survival and combat training hadn't prepared her for this. As Kent took the upper hand, he relentlessly pursued her, pushing her into the bed.
She managed to slip out of his grasp, but his hand was already on her ankle, yanking her back into his embrace.
They struggled again, their bodies entangled. His grip was firm, and her attempts to escape only fueled the tension in the room.
Finally, everything went quiet. Both of them were breathing heavily, facing each other. Kent, like a beast king, had finally subdued her. She could hear her own heartbeat racing, his breath growing closer as he inched toward her.
She closed her eyes, no longer able to resist, ready to surrender.
But Kent seemed to be just getting started.
Another new battle was about to begin.