Сhаpter 322: Тhе Firе Моth Party 54
Nо оne in the rоom madе а sоund, lеаving оnly silenсe.
Stimulated by Mo Qiаnzhi’s аct оf seеking dеаth, Shеn Du felt sоmеwhаt раnickеd, as if he had rеturnеd to thе scene оf his father’s finаl moments—оvеrwhеlming blооd еngulfing thе young bоу in the сrоwd. Аt that timе, his heаrt wаs filled with resеntmеnt, injusticе, and, abovе all, a desirе fоr rеvengе. The world wаs unfаir, аnd he wаntеd tо kill thе wiсkеd and еstаblish a just wоrld.
His fаther’s sevеred hеаd оpеnеd its еуes and cursеd angrily, “You unfilial son! Тhe world has nеver beеn fair, уеt justicе resides in people’s hearts. Why would I force you to seek revenge?”
As his consciousness returned and his mind cleared, Shen Du realized something was wrong.
His blood-soaked hands were gripping Zhu Yan’s neck. Zhu Yan was already showing signs of suffocation—her watery eyes bulging slightly, nostrils flaring, and her breath faint.
“Ah!”
Suddenly snapping back to his senses, Shen Du released his grip and caught Zhu Yan, cradling her face in his hands, unable to find his own voice:
“Zhu Yan, Zhu Yan…”
Before he could finish, he began coughing uncontrollably, vomiting blood incessantly, and collapsed onto the floor.
Stimulated by Mo Qianzhi’s death, he had unleashed all his inner strength to strangle Zhu Yan, disrupting his own qi and blood. Fortunately, his strength was weakened by the poison, which prevented him from killing Zhu Yan.
“Zhu Yan…” Could it be that they would both die here tonight?
“Cough, cough…” Zhu Yan gasped for air, coming back to her senses, and frantically searched for Shen Du. Only then did she realize she was lying in Shen Du’s arms, both of their clothes stained with blood.
On the verge of breaking down, Zhu Yan leaned in to listen—his heartbeat was faint but still there. Overwhelmed with relief, she wept, “Good, good, good.”
She had stabbed Mo Qianzhi and, unable to accept it at first, later saw Shen Du approach and strangle her neck as if he had become a different person, unreachable no matter how she called out to him. As her consciousness faded, she thought she was going to die.
Shen Du closed his eyes, holding her hand to his chest, breathing with difficulty. “I’m fine.”
He opened his eyes and looked toward Mo Qianzhi.
Zhu Yan followed his gaze to Mo Qianzhi, a wave of lingering fear washing over her. Slowly raising her trembling hands, she looked down at them, her heart filled with mixed emotions.
“Shen Du,” she said, her face pale with terror and guilt, though it was already too late, “he… he’s dead. I killed him.”
Mo Qianzhi’s eyes were wide open, but his pupils were dilated, dull and lifeless. He had died with his eyes open.
Shen Du shook his head. He understood that there was no point in pitying the dead endlessly. “His world has collapsed.”
That was why he had lost the will to live.
The hands that had been tightly gripping his shoulders finally loosened. The torment of this period had left Zhu Yan looking haggard, and coupled with the recent harm, her spirit was now on the verge of shattering.
Fear, like the white threads on Pan Chi’s body, coiled around her strand by strand. Zhu Yan murmured:
“I dissect corpses to seek justice and make the dead speak, but why did I kill someone?”
So consumed by fear, she even forgot to cry.
Before Shen Du could steady his breathing, he saw Zhu Yan tightly gripping the Corpse-Dissecting Knife and stabbing it toward her own arm. Shen Du’s pupils dilated, and despite his body being at its limit, he forced himself to struggle up, fighting through his dazed consciousness to snatch the knife from Zhu Yan’s hand and toss it aside.
With trembling hands, he cradled Zhu Yan’s deathly pale face, his heart aching as if scraped by a blade.
Zhu Yan trembled all over, her body shaking uncontrollably, but she gradually calmed down as she felt the warmth of Shen Du’s palms.
Tears finally streamed from her eyes, washing over her already swollen and reddened eyelids once more."I... what have I done?" Zhu Yan felt a wave of fear wash over her, clutching tightly onto Shen Du.
Shen Du gave a weak smile. "You did nothing."
Zhu Yan shook her head, her voice trembling with tears as she looked at Shen Du. "Mo Qianzhi is dead. We can't get the antidote anymore. You're going to die."
"No, I won't. I'm tough. It's not my time yet."
Unable to bear seeing her cry, he raised a hand to wipe away her tears, wanting only to comfort her. "Back when my entire family was executed, I still survived. Why should I fear this now?"
These were merely words of consolation. The poison was even more potent than "Cocoon to Butterfly," and Zhu Yan knew it all too well.
She reached out and gently touched the side of Shen Du's face.
Despite his own frailty, he still sought to comfort her, filling her with remorse and a sense of her own uselessness.
But if she continued to wallow in despair, she would only hinder important matters. With this thought, Zhu Yan quickly steadied her mind and carefully considered their current situation.
"Don't worry, I won't die just like that," he said, grasping the hand that touched his face. "I won't give you the chance to become a widow and remarry."
Zhu Yan understood and smiled faintly, allowing Shen Du to hold her hand as she quietly gazed at him.
After a long while, Zhu Yan turned her gaze back to the figure lying flat on the ground.
Fearing another emotional outburst, Shen Du moved to cover her eyes, but Zhu Yan dodged his hand.
"No one will blame you," he whispered softly into her ear. "You were only trying to save me. Anyone in that situation would have made the same choice."
Zhu Yan did not respond, her eyes still fixed on Mo Qianzhi.
Life is unpredictable, and fate seemed to be toying with them, presenting them with the worst possible outcomes.
They had thought the worst-case scenario would be his death and Mo Qianzhi's siege of the city. But now Mo Qianzhi was dead, and the situation had not improved.
The commotion had attracted Jing Lin's attention.
The scene before him tightened his heart—three people lying in pools of blood. Without another thought, he drew his sword and stepped forward, shielding Shen Du and Zhu Yan behind him, his blade pointed at Mo Qianzhi.
Soon, he realized something was amiss. Mo Qianzhi's eyes were lifeless and dull.
"He's dead."
Jing Lin was stunned. He reached out to check, then immediately turned and knelt before Shen Du. "I arrived too late. Please punish me, Great Pavilion Commander."
Shen Du did not respond. Instead, he reached out and gently closed Mo Qianzhi's eyes, gazing silently for a long moment before instructing Jing Lin:
"Find a set of clean clothes. Locate the graves of Madam Mo and her child, and bury them together with Lord Mo." His tone was devoid of any emotion.
Jing Lin quickly returned with clean clothes. With a solemn expression, Shen Du personally changed Mo Qianzhi's bloodstained garments.
By the time he finished, Shen Du was drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted, unable to do more than instruct Jing Lin to help him change his own clothes.
It was already dawn. Jing Lin hastily gathered several Inner Guards, placed Mo Qianzhi in a coffin, and escorted it out of the city by carriage.
Along the way, whenever anyone asked, he answered truthfully.
Thus, the news that the former Governor of Yingzhou City had been assassinated quickly spread among the city's residents.
Shen Du watched from afar as the coffin moved into the distance, muttering self-mockingly, "My senior brother was right. I truly am a man who will stop at nothing."
Even in death, Mo Qianzhi was still being used.
Zhu Yan silently reached out and took his hand, her gaze solemn. "This is for the best. The people of Yingzhou City also wish to bid farewell to Lord Mo."
Zhu Yan was right. Upon learning of Mo Qianzhi's death, the citizens came out to pay their respects. Some even clung to the coffin, weeping in profound grief.Regardless of the circumstances, they had all once received Mo Qianzhi's care and guidance. It was Mo Qianzhi who led them from a barren land to transform it into a prosperous and strategically important border city.
Before she could finish reading the account, Shen Du fainted again, nearly causing Zhu Yan to fall with him.
It took considerable effort to move him onto the bed and lay him down properly. Zhu Yan's heart felt exceptionally heavy as she quietly kept watch by the bedside, her brow furrowed, holding Shen Du's hand.
She stayed awake all night, her consciousness drifting in and out of haze, yet she dared not relax even for a moment. She was afraid to close her eyes, fearing she might miss the moment Shen Du woke up.
Jing Lin arrived, but Zhu Yan did not notice.
Sighing, Jing Lin's mood was also low, but discipline remained. After careful consideration, he stepped forward to report:
"Madam, the matter has been handled. What should we do next?"
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