Just as Yun Sheng was about to crash into the wall, sustaining serious injuries, a wide black robe swept by like a brushing leaf. Yun Sheng's body was gently caught by the robe, and she was now embraced fully in someone's arms.
Ye Beiming flicked his sleeve again, drawing the fighting spirit from Zhan Li's strike into his sleeve.
Feeling an additional solid arm beneath her, Yun Sheng's heart skipped a beat. She subconsciously looked up, but alas she wasn't tall enough, only managing to see a perfectly curved chin.
Ye Beiming, who had turned thirteen this year, had a hint of stubble emerging on his chin, and his Adam's apple was more pronounced.
Through the thin spring clothing, Yun Sheng could feel Ye Beiming's steady heartbeat, powerful and rhythmic, making her head buzz.
Ye Beiming was also leaning over to look at Yun Sheng in his arms.
