Chaрtеr 169: Sеnding Yоu Оff (2)
Clang!
At thаt сritical mоment, a stоnе flеw frоm thе dаrkness in the distаnce. The persоn bеhind her fеlt a numbing раin in thе tigеr’s mouth оf his wrist, аnd thе knifе fеll to thе ground with a loud сlаtter.
Zhu Yаn reactеd swiftly, dodging tо the side. Веfоrе shе соuld steadу hеr pаniсkеd heаrt, a figurе quiсkly aррeаred beforе her. The fаmiliаr аura аnd that tall, straight роsturе finallу аllоwеd Zhu Yаn tо feеl а slight sensе of rеlief.
It was Shеn Du. Shen Du hаd соme tо sаvе hеr.
Not far in front оf them stood a man in blаck—the verу persоn who hаd hеld her hоstage and tried to take her life. His face was completely hidden, but the pair of eyes visible beneath the mask gleamed with icy killing intent.
He was truly after her life. Who could possibly want her dead so badly?
Seeing Shen Du arrive, the man in black showed no sign of retreat. Instead, the killing intent in his eyes grew even more sinister and ruthless. The two quickly engaged in combat.
“Dare to touch my person? You’re seeking death.”
Shen Du’s moves were lethal, showing no mercy. He was clearly enraged.
Zhu Yan stepped back, not wanting to hold Shen Du back. Hearing his words, her heart stirred slightly.
But this fight was different from before. This time, the man in black’s target was Zhu Yan. Even as he fought with Shen Du, he kept looking for opportunities to strike at Zhu Yan.
There was no need to guess who in Chang’an City wanted her dead. But to praise her before the Empress one moment and then send assassins to ambush and kill her the next—this move was utterly lacking in martial virtue.
The man in black feinted a move. Taking advantage of Shen Du’s anger and momentary lack of thought, he seized an opportunity. Turning around, he flipped the horizontal blade in his hand and swung it toward Zhu Yan.
“Zhu Yan!”
It was too late to stop him. Shen Du’s eyes darkened as he rushed forward, pulling Zhu Yan into his embrace and shielding her. The blade whistled through the air, striking Shen Du’s back without hesitation.
Pain shot through his back. Shen Du turned and slammed a palm into the man in black’s chest. A spray of dark blood gushed out, splattering onto the bluestone pavement.
“You’re injured?!” Zhu Yan’s voice trembled with tears.
Shen Du shook his head, his eyes dark and intense, like a bloodthirsty wolf on the grasslands, fixed tightly on his opponent. A murderous aura pressed directly against the other’s face.
The man in black staggered backward, forced to retreat by this aura. His tiger’s mouth trembled violently, and he could barely hold onto his blade.
“Zhu Yan, you cannot escape.”
Following the usual script, he spat out a final threat before quickly retreating, leaping over the wall and disappearing.
“Ugh!”
Zhu Yan tightly supported Shen Du. Warm liquid soaked her hands. She looked down and saw crimson blood.
“So much blood…”
Zhu Yan panicked. Whether from tension or worry, her face turned deathly pale. She clutched Shen Du tightly, asking anxiously,
“Don’t be hurt, please don’t be hurt, okay? I… I’ll take you back to find a doctor right now.”
“I’m fine.” Shen Du forced a faint smile at the corner of his lips. Seeing Zhu Yan’s anxious expression, he replied nonchalantly, “This little injury can’t harm me. Don’t forget who I am.”
His gaze lowered, his fists clenched. He leaned his head against hers as if soothing a cat, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I am the White King of Hell.”
Hearing this, Zhu Yan grew angry. At a time like this, with lives at stake, he could still joke with her like this.
“What White King of Hell? They don’t know you. The King of Hell isn’t as handsome as you. Even the King of Hell wouldn’t take you—he’d be jealous of you.”She could clearly feel the blood flowing from her back, her consciousness fading. Shen Du moved closer to Zhu Yan, letting out a long sigh:
"So you know I'm good-looking. Then why do you always stare at other men?"
Other men? Who?
"You're bleeding so much, yet you still have the mood to question me here. Even if I were to look at men, it would be the men in the Autopsy Room. When have I ever spared a glance for anyone else?"
Zhu Yan was so anxious she was on the verge of tears. She couldn't move Shen Du, and he kept bleeding...
"Tell me, how do we stop the bleeding?"
Her delicate hand was seized as Shen Du leaned almost his entire weight on her, his breathing growing erratic.
"As long as you understand why someone wants to kill you, my injuries will have been worth it."
With those words, Shen Du couldn't help but cough twice.
Zhu Yan was terrified and flustered, quickly patting Shen Du's back gently, her expression filled with guilt as she said, "I know, I understand everything. I won't provoke him anymore. I promise you I'll never investigate this case again.
Let this case end here. I was wrong, I was too selfish. As long as you're no longer hurt, as long as you're safe and sound, I can give up everything."
Zhu Yan opened her mouth. What was she saying? Her ears flushed red. She didn't dare look at Shen Du, hoping he hadn't heard her clearly—otherwise, how embarrassing would that be?
No matter how she listened to it, it sounded like she was confessing to Shen Du.
"If you don't find a way to send me back for treatment soon, you might really end up a widow."
Only then did Zhu Yan snap back to reality. She took out the object used to contact the Unrighteous Agents, and soon they were in a carriage.
The Shen residence had its own physician. Shen Du's injury was on his back, deep enough to reveal bone, but fortunately, there were no internal injuries. The physician quickly treated and bandaged the wound before heading out to fetch medicine, but Zhu Yan pulled him aside to carefully inquire about precautions.
Jing Lin knelt by the bed, refusing to get up. Without Zhu Yan nearby, Shen Du's expression turned cold, a murderous aura emanating from him.
"Please punish me, Master."
Shen Du leaned against the bed: "You do deserve punishment. Not a single guard I ordered you to assign to Zhu Yan showed up. What use are you?"
Jing Lin had no defense: "None of them... returned."
"..."
Shen Du stood up: "What?"
"The other side took care of all our men. Not a single one returned."
Shen Du staggered, then spat out a mouthful of blood. Jing Lin hurriedly supported him: "Commander?!"
Zhu Yan rushed in at the sound and, seeing the scene, turned pale: "Quick, call the physician!"
Jing Lin hurriedly left, dragging the physician who was about to fetch medicine and tossing him before the bed.
"Rage and anxiety have struck his heart."
In the latter half of the night, Shen Du's fever raged uncontrollably. Zhu Yan cared for him all night without closing her eyes, changing the water in the basin again and again.
She had never seen Shen Du so weak before. The eyes that usually frightened people into tears with a single glance were tightly shut, his lips pale, his brows furrowed, his quietness unsettling.
Tears fell onto the back of her hand. Zhu Yan laughed—why was she crying? If Shen Du died, she should be happy. That way, she wouldn't die.
But she already owed Shen Du two lives. When she was eleven, he saved her. Now, at sixteen, he saved her again. How could she let him die?
Zhu Yan took Shen Du's hand and placed it in her palm, lowering her head to trace the lines on his hand as she murmured:
"In the time that remains, I will be a good Lady Shen. I won't meddle in anything else. You're injured now and need someone to care for you. In the future, I'll have to change your bandages and brew tonics for you...""These are all tasks for servants, yet as the Lady of the Shen household, I’ve taken care of everything myself. When you wake up and recover, you’ll have to compensate me for my losses."
Sighing, Zhu Yan lowered her head and rested it in Shen Du’s palm. Overwhelmed by drowsiness, she murmured to herself:
"Not feverish anymore."
Shen Du woke from the pain—a searing ache in his back. Before he could open his eyes, he heard Zhu Yan muttering to herself, now crying, now laughing, and he caught every word.
Before he could hear what he wanted to hear, she had already fallen asleep.
But had he been feverish? Had this woman taken care of him all night?
Zhu Yan’s drool trickled onto his palm as she slept. Shen Du’s lips twitched visibly, and he soon winced from the pain, forcing himself not to make a sound. Silently, he gazed at the ceiling, waiting for the dawn to break outside.
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