"When my flower blooms, all others wither—" Search for the latest chapter!
Xiao Huayong watched as his men fell one by one. The piercing clash of bronze cymbals had no effect on Xiao Changyan's forces—clearly, these men were not deaf but had grown accustomed, even numb, to the soul-disrupting noise. It was a testament to how Xiao Changyan had trained this batch of Shadow Guards, capable of scaling heavens and diving into earth.
Xiao Huayong signaled his companions with a glance. They promptly inserted earplugs—cotton stuffed into satin pouches, specially crafted by Shen Xihe to counter Xiao Changyan's Soul-seizing Art.
Xiao Huayong had once explained to Shen Xihe that only masters of the Soul-seizing Art could captivate others with a mere glance. Most practitioners relied on external objects—movements or sounds—to control their targets.
Shen Xihe had Biyu and others work through the night to prepare these earplugs. The cotton was soaked in fragrant spices and dried—originally intended as nose plugs, the subtle aroma could refresh the mind. Since the seven orifices are interconnected, inserting them into the ears proved equally effective.
Though they couldn't completely block the cymbals' interference, their minds were no longer easily swayed. The enemy wielded barbed chains—slender, whipping through the air with a fierce whistle, gleaming silver, agile enough for both long-range assaults and close-quarters injuries.
The chains, studded with fine barbs, could strip flesh with a single tug if entangled. Grabbing or blocking them barehanded was impossible, and even weapons, once ensnared, were easily wrested away.
This intricate weapon was Xiao Juesong's invention—a design so clever even Xiao Huayong had to admire its ingenuity.
With these reinforcements, the fierce battle's momentum shifted again, restoring a stalemate.
One side swift, the other ruthless—blades clashed, sparks flew, blood sprayed.
Though Xiao Changyan's men were shielded from external sounds, they failed to notice the chain-wielding man in black during each retrieval, release, or flick of their weapons, subtly dispersing fine white powder. The lingering smoke perfectly concealed these dust-like particles. Soon, Xiao Changyan's Shadow Guards grew enraged like provoked bulls, their clear eyes turning crimson.
Seeing the opportunity was ripe, Xiao Huayong feigned defeat to preserve strength and ordered, "Retreat.""Close-guarding black-clad individuals covered Xiao Huayong's swift escape, while the engaged fighters gradually regrouped, covering the rear before following."
Chasing out of the cave, Xiao Changyan saw the trail of blood and raised his hand: "Do not pursue.Though the Shadow Guards halted, their bloodshot eyes fixated on the bloodstains—a neural trigger that overrode their discipline. They swept past Xiao Changyan like a gust of wind.
Only then did Xiao Changyan realize the grave error. He swiftly pursued, knocking out as many as he could, but half still followed the blood trail uphill.
Never before had he regretted training them to be too agile—leaving him unable to stop them in time.
The bloodstains led to a thatched cottage on the mountainside, standing reticent in the drizzle. The shack reeked of potent liquor—fiery alcohol that stung the nostrils.Blood spilled from several houses, spreading in all directions. Washed by the rain, it slithered like winding snakes into the buildings to the left, right, and ahead. The Shadow Guards automatically split into three groups and charged into the houses. Xiao Huayong stood at a distance, holding three arrows coated with oil. He drew his bow, and whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—the arrows flew toward the three thatched cottages.
Just as Xiao Changyan arrived, he happened to see three flaming arrows—unquenched even by the drizzle—pierce the roofs of the thatched cottages with precision, embedding themselves inside. A strong smell of liquor, carried by the cold wind, rushed into his nostrils. His pupils abruptly constricted. "No—!"
Boom, boom, boom—
Xiao Changyan's heart-wrenching cry was drowned out by sudden, thunderous explosions. Amid the fine rain, the thatched cottages were blown to smithereens. Severed limbs and broken arms flew skyward along with the straw. Even Xiao Changyan, standing at the entrance, was thrown back by the powerful blast, landing heavily in the mud and spitting out a mouthful of bright red blood.
Propping himself up with one hand, his chest aching from the impact, he stared with bloodshot eyes at the scene of utter collapse before him. Not a single soul remained standing. The ferocity in his gaze was like that of a demon clawing its way up from hell.
"Capture him," Xiao Huayong commanded.
"Yes—"
"Wait." As his subordinate moved to apprehend Xiao Changyan, Xiao Huayong suddenly halted him, listening intently.
Haidongqing, unnoticed until now, circled high in the sky without uttering a sound.
Xiao Huayong drew his bow again, aiming an arrow at Xiao Changyan.
At the very moment the arrow was trained on him, Xiao Changyan—already grief-stricken—felt an inexplicable tightening in his chest. This sensation of facing death was one he had experienced many times on the battlefield. Each time, it was this heaven-sent intuition that had saved his life.
Almost instinctively, he mustered all his strength and rolled aside. In the next instant, Xiao Huayong's arrow struck the ground beside him. But the suffocating dread of death did not vanish after dodging that one arrow; instead, it grew even more intense.
This time, Xiao Huayong shot three arrows in rapid succession. Xiao Changyan evaded one, but the other two found their mark—one piercing his waist and abdomen, the other deflected by an incoming arrow.
Through the curtain of rain, Xiao Huayong narrowed his eyes and watched as Xiao Changfeng, bow in hand, galloped forward on horseback. He let out a soft snort, then turned and withdrew with his men.
Xiao Changfeng raced to Xiao Changyan's side, helping the severely wounded man to his feet. He glanced back in the direction where Xiao Huayong had disappeared before escorting Xiao Changyan away under the protection of his own guards.
By the time they returned to the county magistrate's office in Rongcheng County, they were met by Shen Xihe, who sat upright inside the hall, having waited for an unknown length of time.
The county magistrate trembled, shrinking his neck as he stood to one side. Xiao Changgeng leaned weakly against the back of his chair, his face slightly pale.
As Xiao Changfeng helped the injured Xiao Changyan inside, his heart tightened at the sight of Shen Xihe's expressionless face, which revealed neither joy nor anger.
A man of seven feet, he seldom feared anyone. Even toward Your Majesty, his feelings were mostly reverence. Yet, toward Shen Xihe, he felt an inexplicable trepidation—especially now, given their relationship as elder sister-in-law to future brother-in-law, which made him feel somewhat inferior.
"Prince Xun, you've come to Dengzhou, yet your first stop was not Wendeng County to see the Crown Prince, but Rongcheng County. Could this be by imperial decree?" Shen Xihe asked, unhurried and calm, as if she hadn't noticed Xiao Changyan's injuries."Eighth Brother..." It was Xiao Changgeng who stepped forward first to support Xiao Changyan, addressing the county magistrate, "Please summon the doctor."
Ignoring Shen Xihe, he helped Xiao Changyan inside. For your convenience in future readings, you can click "Bookmark" below to save this chapter (Chapter 675: Fate Has Other Plans). It will appear on your bookshelf when opened next time!
If you enjoy "When My Flower Blooms, All Others Wither", please recommend this book to your friends (via QQ, blog, WeChat, etc.). Thank you for your support!! ()
OpenNovel