Wen Ya was already in a complete panic. While she certainly enjoyed watching drama unfold from a safe distance, she had zero desire to become a cast member. Right now, her primary focus was avoiding getting trampled, which meant she completely failed to notice that someone was actively taking advantage of the situation to get a feel of her waist.
Up ahead, the criminals were closing in, and most of the passengers nearby had already fled. The refined scoundrel and the short-haired girl had bolted toward the back as well. Seeing them run, Wen Ya decided it was time to make her own escape.
She braced herself and tried to stand up. Hhng?
She pushed harder. Hhng?!
She exerted all her strength.
Glancing down to find the culprit keeping her firmly anchored in place, she spotted a large hand firmly clamped around her waist.
Dazed, she whipped her head around to look at the icy-faced man, opening her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it. He leaned down, pressing his lips close to her ear and murmuring in a low voice:
“Don’t speak. They’re right here.”
Hearing that, Wen Ya snapped her head back around to look—and sure enough, the criminals were almost right on top of them.
Terrified speechless, she caught sight of the blood-stained blade and instantly tossed all her previous self-defense training out the window. Using both hands and feet, she scrambled frantically right back into the icy man’s arms for protection.
As Wen Ya instinctively burrowed deeper into his embrace—to hide, strictly to hide, not to burrow!—Ling Hao seized the opportunity to wrap both arms securely around her. This little bundle felt wonderfully soft in his arms.
As for the knife-wielding criminal? He didn’t even spare the man a single glance.
After spending fifteen years in the post-apocalyptic wasteland, things like this were a dime a dozen. For someone of his strength, eliminating those two thugs would be child’s play. How could dealing with a couple of thugs possibly compare to holding this girl? If he didn’t take advantage of the situation now, when would he?
As the old saying went: Only a fool passes up free favors. And he had no intention of playing the fool.
However, fate has a funny way of singling you out the moment you try to ignore it.
The criminal had been feeling quite arrogant, buoyed by the fact that he held a hostage and confident that the plainclothes officers wouldn’t dare make a move. But then his eyes landed on the icy-faced man, who was completely ignoring his existence. Meanwhile, the girl cradled in that man’s arms was staring at him with a pair of wide, terrified doe eyes—a look that instantly provoked a dark, destructive urge in the thug to wipe that fear away and break the man’s nonchalance.
Lifting his knife, the criminal pointed the blade straight at Ling Hao and barked, “Hey, punk! If you don’t want to die, hand over the girl in your arms right now!”
Hearing that they were coming for her, Wen Ya nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up at the icy-faced man in sheer terror, terrified he might actually toss her to the wolves.
Ling Hao gently patted her back with one hand, soothing her. “Be a good girl. Don’t be afraid. I’ve got you.”
The criminal interpreted this as utter disrespect, his face burning with humiliation. Roaring with fury, he lunged forward, slashing his knife directly at Ling Hao.
A piercing shriek tore from Wen Ya’s throat. Pure muscle memory took over: she whipped her foot out and delivered a vicious kick straight toward the criminal’s most vulnerable target—his third leg.
Ling Hao’s reflexes were even faster. Holding Wen Ya securely with one arm, he reached out with his free hand, clamped a vice-like grip around the criminal’s wrist, and twisted. A horrific, blood-curdling scream echoed through the carriage as the man’s wrist bones were crushed into a pulverized fracture.
Simultaneously, Wen Ya’s kick landed squarely on target, which explained why the criminal’s shriek reached such an agonizing, ear-splitting pitch.
Hearing his partner’s horrific scream, the second criminal whipped his head around to see what was happening. Seizing the opening, the plainclothes officers lunged forward and pinned him to the floor. The first criminal was even easier to handle; doubled over in agony, he offered no resistance and was instantly slapped in cuffs. He didn’t dare fight back anyway—his good hand was still desperately clamped between his legs, clutching his pulverized groin.
Seeing that the danger had passed, Wen Ya quickly pulled her leg back.
Ling Hao kept her wrapped tightly in his arms for a moment longer, a flash of unconcealed amusement dancing in his eyes. He never expected the girl to pull off a textbook low-blow kick right in the middle of a crisis. She was truly adorable. Yet, his outward expression remained frozen in its trademark, bone-chilling iceberg glaze.
Once the thugs were fully subdued, Wen Ya decided it was safe to get down.
Having learned her lesson, she didn’t try to bolt upright this time. Instead, she gently patted Ling Hao’s arm, signaling him to let her go.
Realizing he couldn’t keep holding her now that the threat was neutralized—and knowing that unlike the wasteland, public decency in this era required a bit more restraint—Ling Hao reluctantly loosened his grip with visible unwillingness.
Wen Ya scrambled back to her own seat just as the chaos began to settle.
At that moment, the female hostage walked over. Blushing fiercely, she looked at the icy-faced man and stammered out her gratitude for saving her life.
Wen Ya watched, utterly bewildered, as the icy man didn’t even spare the woman a single glance. Instead, he kept his piercing gaze locked squarely on her.
Wait a minute, Wen Ya thought, baffled. Why are you staring at me? She’s the one thanking you! Look over there, you blockhead!
The hostage kept talking, but the icy face gave her zero response. Fortunately, the woman’s friend rushed over, and the two of them hurried away together.
By this point, the plainclothes officers and the train conductor had crowded around Ling Hao to shower him with praise and thanks, even mentioning that they would issue him an official commendation letter.
Ling Hao merely tossed them a cold, indifferent “hm, no need.” His expression remained carved in ice, his gaze as chilly as ever. Intimidated by his aura, the officers didn’t dare linger and quickly excused themselves to handle the remaining paperwork.
Right now, Ling Hao couldn’t care less about them. He was completely captivated by the rapid-fire succession of facial expressions flashing across the girl’s face.
He watched as her initial look of wide-eyed drama faded, replaced by shock, followed by sheer disbelief, then intense internal conflict, and finally, a profound sense of relaxation as if she had suddenly cracked a difficult puzzle.
Her expressions were so lively and varied that Ling Hao found himself utterly transfixed.
Meanwhile, Wen Ya was entirely consumed by her own swirling thoughts, completely oblivious to Ling Hao’s intense gaze.
The initial catalyst for her shock had been the name Wang Meiyu. Wasn’t that the name of the female protagonist in the 1970s period novel she had recently read? And Xie Ling was the name of the minor female supporting character!
Could it be… did I transmigrate into a novel?!
As she re-read the plot in her head, she realized the original book never mentioned any train hijacking, nor did it feature a character matching her current name. Neither Chen Xiuya nor Wen Ya had ever been referenced in the story, nor was there even a vague description of her appearance.
Wait. Did my character die off-screen before the book even started? she thought wildly. Furthermore, the novel had zero mentions of an icy-faced strongman like the one sitting across from her.
Then, a sudden thought struck her: That chipped jade pendant space that the female protagonist ends up acquiring… could it be the exact same one that recognized me as its master?
If so, everything clicked into place. Because the female protagonist didn’t share her bloodline, she could only use the space for basic farming, ranching, and a spiritual spring with minor cosmetic benefits.
Well, the author was really something, Wen Ya grumbled internally. Giving the protagonist such an overpowered cheat item, yet completely failing to write a single mention or physical description of the actual owner! I didn’t even rank high enough to be an unnamed extra!
On second thought, though… Not being in the plot is actually a blessing. It means I have nothing to do with the female protagonist.
And if she had nothing to do with the plot, she was safe. No endless drama, no cannon-fodder tragedies.
When she thought about it that way, it was actually a fantastic outcome. It meant she could comfortably live out her own peaceful little life.
Having reasoned it all out, she let out a quiet sigh of relief. Just then, the refined scoundrel and the short-haired girl finally scurried back to their seats.
The moment they returned, Wen Ya suddenly remembered how utterly ungraceful and cowardly she must have looked hiding in a man’s lap just moments ago, and her face burned with mortification. She couldn’t bear to look back at him.