Torrential rain poured down as fierce winds howled, plunging the world into a bleak and desolate scene. The bone-chilling wind swept through, sending shivers down one's spine. The vast, lonely sky loomed overhead, while the oppressive, low-hanging clouds unleashed a deluge that roared like savage beasts, furiously washing over everything in the world. Blades reflected a fiery red glow, tinged with a bloodthirsty desolation, coldly illuminating the varied faces around.
Mo'er's voice had grown hoarse. The child had lost his mind, frantically pounding on Zhuge Yue's back. This child, who had lost his home and family, had finally shed all traces of childish innocence. Like a cornered young beast, his eyes were bloodshot as he let out desperate, roaring cries.
"Xingxing! Xingxing!"
The child screamed wildly, tears streaming down his face. His voice resembled that of a wolf cub abandoned by its mother. He stretched out his hand toward the little girl lying limply on the ground, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. The pouring rain battered his face, his eyes, his body—everything was tinged with crimson. Winding streams of blood converged into a red whirlpool on the ground, continuously washed by the heavy rain. The scent of blood lingered in the air, mingling with the turbulent, icy wind.
At that moment, Chu Qiao tightened her grip on the blade in her hand. Lightning flashed one after another in the sky, illuminating her face with a stark whiteness. She took a deep breath but could not suppress the trembling in her body. Her face was pale, her lips bloodless, yet her eyes were dark and bright. Suddenly, she recalled the timid expression the child had worn when she left—the innocent smile she had given, tinged with a cautious eagerness to please. She had said, "Sister, I’ll go first. I’ll come back tomorrow."
I’ll come back tomorrow… I’ll come back tomorrow… I’ll come back tomorrow…
A surge of grief and fury rose in her throat. Slowly, she lifted her head, then dismounted from her horse, discarded the scabbard, and raised her battle blade high above her head, gripping it tightly with both hands. Her gaze was icy cold as she fixed it on the golden tent ahead.
"Bad people! Bad people!"
The child continued to cry out. Zhuge Yue also dismounted. The man remained calm as he patted the child on his back and said in a low voice, "Kid, save your strength. Shedding tears for your enemies is the act of a coward."
Ouyang Mo reached out a small hand and wiped the tears from his face, but in his eyes, there was no longer a trace of the innocence and simplicity that belonged to a child.
Little Xingxing's body had been carelessly tossed into a ditch in front of the tent. She bore only one fatal wound, and her skin had turned pale from being soaked in the rain. Her eyes were wide open, but there was no hatred in them—only sheer panic, fear, terror, and an unbelievable worry. Her body was so small, and she wasn't even wearing shoes. Her pale little feet and a section of her slender legs were exposed beneath her tiny skirt.
And in her hand, she still clutched a dagger.
It was the very one Chu Qiao had given her as a parting gift.
Two middle-aged adults lay beside her, a man and a woman, likely Xingxing's parents.
The cold wind blew, lifting the lake-green skirt of Chu Qiao's robe. The elegant dress was already soaked through, clinging tightly to her body. She raised her head, took a deep breath, and then abruptly stepped forward. In that instant, all hesitation and sorrow vanished from her eyes, replaced by an unwavering courage and determination—a conviction and ferocity capable of destroying everything in its path.In an instant, dazzling blade light and terrifying killing intent flooded the entire area. Chu Qiao leaped up abruptly, a brilliant white arc of steel slicing through the darkness as it descended, cutting down all questioning voices and gazes with her war blade.
"Ah!"
A sharp shriek shattered the rainy night's silence. The wounded soldier let out a beast-like howl as the girl cast aside all feminine fragility. In this moment, she was a warrior, a cold-blooded, fearless killing machine. Her blade lodged in the soldier's chest, she planted her feet and surged forward, pressing the blade deep into his body as she charged ahead.
"Surround them! Protect the master!"
Amid the chaos, someone shouted urgently. All eyes burned with fervor—they were trapped like turtles in a jar. Killing them now would mean great merit.
But this fervor lasted only a moment. The next second, they realized with horror how laughable their thoughts had been. Even as they hurriedly formed defenses, their opponents had already launched a frenzied slaughter!
From beginning to end, escape had never crossed their minds.
A magnificent blade arc cut through the air. Two soldiers charging forward screamed and retreated, one even losing a leg. Blood sprayed as agonized cries erupted. Another soldier crept up from behind, attempting a sneak attack. Without turning her head, Chu Qiao reversed her grip and drove her blade straight into his heart. The girl stood slightly crouched in the heavy rain, her form frozen for an instant before she yanked the blade free. A fountain of blood gushed out, drenching her completely.
She didn't even furrow her brows. Her gaze swept coldly like a hawk's, striking fear wherever it landed. Slowly straightening up, she dragged her war blade and advanced step by step.
"Seize her!"
A guard captain shouted again. Zhuge Yue snorted coldly, swung his arm, and with a whooshing sound through the air, the scabbard of Moon Breaker Sword shot forth. It pierced the guard's abdomen with terrifying force!
"Uncle, kill them!"
The child showed no fear, instead shouting with reddened eyes.
After such brutal slaughter, even this young boy had lost his innate compassion and kindness. Waving his small fists, he yelled and roared like a battle-hardened warmonger.
"The young master orders: whoever takes these three heads gets a thousand taels of gold!"
A servant emerged from the main tent to announce, but before he could finish, Chu Qiao and Zhuge Yue charged forward, leaping into the crowd. Instantly, masses of people swarmed from all directions, countless hands and blades striking at them. Yet, screams immediately pierced the sky. Almost simultaneously, countless roars filled the air as shattered limbs and blood sprayed in all directions. People fell like wheat before a scythe. The cruel slaughter made hands and feet tremble. No longer tempted by gold, the crowd scattered in panic, many scrambling away on hands and knees. An empty space remained, where only Zhuge Yue and Chu Qiao stood side by side, casting contemptuous gazes at the dark mass of people.
The man, drenched in blood, asked calmly, "Still alive?"
"Won't die."Chu Qiao stared coldly at the crowd ahead, her voice low and clear: "You hold these people off. I'm going into the main tent."
Zhuge Yue frowned, about to argue, when Chu Qiao's figure shot forward like an arrow released from its bow.
Another round of brutal fighting ensued. Zhuge Yue cursed under his breath but still rushed forward to clear a temporary opening for her.
...
Inside the spacious main tent, Yan Xun leaned against the heated couch with a furrowed brow. Only A Jing remained by his side, knife in hand, maintaining his original appearance as he listened to the commotion outside and said gravely, "Master, let the Yan guards intervene. These two are highly skilled fighters."
Yan Xun gently massaged his temples and replied indifferently, "No need. It's fine to leave these Liu clan lackeys here."
"But," A Jing frowned, "we can't have no local Liu clan members at all. This will make operations difficult for us in Biantang."
Yan Xun waved his hand dismissively. "Wait a little longer."
...
By now, Chu Qiao had reached the entrance of the main tent. Only five of the Liu clan's personal guards stood between her and her goal. She merely cast them a cold glance, then slowly licked the blood from her cheek. That casual attitude and arrogant disregard for everything instantly shattered their confidence.
Then she raised her blade once more—merciless, the perfect killing machine of the cold weapons era.
Dead silence filled the main tent, broken only by the ongoing sounds of battle outside. Beads of sweat formed on A Jing's forehead as he finally couldn't resist asking again, "Young Master..."
Yan Xun's brows remained tightly knit. For some reason, a trace of irritation rose in his heart, as if he had forgotten something important, as if a voice was screaming wildly within him—yet he couldn't make out what it was saying. The sounds of fighting outside were so loud, stirring up many memories he'd rather forget. Finally, he waved his hand lightly and said, "Go ahead."
A Jing let out a long sigh of relief and was about to speak.
But at that moment, a voice cold as snow suddenly rang out, sharp as a sword piercing through the night, casting a terrifying sharp light across heaven and earth!
"Liu Xi! Get out here!!!"
On the day he fled Zhenhuang City, standing under the vast dark sky, Yan Xun had sworn to himself that he would never fear anyone again, never dread anything again. All forces standing in his way would be ruthlessly torn apart. He would use his blade, his fists, his strength to declare to the world: The King of Yanbei had returned, and all the sins and humiliations once inflicted upon him would be repaid tenfold, a hundredfold.
Yet at this moment, he felt afraid. He didn't even put on his shoes, just leapt up wildly from the heated couch and stumbled forward, charging toward the entrance like a madman.
"Young Master!"
The guards in the main tent were horrified and rushed forward together. A Jing grabbed Yan Xun, not having clearly heard that voice, simply thinking his master was angrily rushing out to confront the enemy directly.
"Master! Don't be impulsive! Someone like that isn't worth you taking action personally!"
The clang of weapons echoed, the sharp sound of metal meeting metal as Chu Qiao's voice rang out again: "Liu Xi! Get out here!"And this time, even A Jing was frozen in place.
The wind howled, and a tearing sound immediately followed as the tent flap was sliced open by a blade. A flash of lightning abruptly lit up the sky, exploding behind the woman, turning the world stark white. For a moment, her blood-soaked figure appeared exceptionally tall and straight.
She stood at the entrance, a faint disdain etched between her brows. Proudly raising her battle blade, she pointed the tip directly at Yan Xun and let out a cold, light snort. "Liu Xi, you didn't expect it to be me, did you?"
Indeed, unexpected. How could anyone have anticipated this?
The candles inside the tent were extinguished by the storm outside, and a dim glow fell upon the woman's deathly pale face. At this moment, words were insufficient to express Yan Xun's feelings. He stood rooted to the spot like a block of wood, wanting to speak but unsure of what to say. He merely furrowed his brows tightly, gazing deeply at her, yet unable to utter a single word.
Chu Qiao looked at him coldly, her tone neither humble nor arrogant, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. She simply pointed her blade at him and said, "You betrayed Yanbei, betrayed the Great Alliance Society, and slaughtered your own kin. Tell me, do you deserve to die?"
Just then, the Yan guards who had been hiding outside the tent sprang into action. These soldiers, veterans of countless battles, were far superior to Liu Xi's personal guards. Dressed in black from head to toe, their faces covered, they rushed out from two adjacent tents, weapons in hand, swiftly surrounding Zhuge Yue and Chu Qiao. The archers had already taken their positions, but when they caught sight of the woman standing in their midst, they were all struck with shock, frozen in place and forgetting to act.
Naturally, Zhuge Yue and Chu Qiao were unaware of this. Liu Xi's guards had already retreated, and the camp fell into a deathly silence.
"Xing'er!" Zhuge Yue rushed forward, sword in hand, positioning himself protectively in front of her. With his other hand, he held her back, fearing she might impulsively charge into a fight. It was a simple gesture, but its protective intent needed no explanation.
Chu Qiao stared into the darkness where Liu Xi stood and spoke slowly, word by word, "Liu Xi, I am here on behalf of the Great Alliance Society to take your life."
She pointed at him coldly, her expression utterly composed. "Even if I fail to kill you today, Yan Xun will surely avenge me someday! Betrayers will be slaughtered without exception, with no chance of survival!"
With a deafening crash, a bolt of lightning split the sky. The man in white inside the tent suddenly let out a soft laugh. He lifted his head, gazing at the torrential rain outside, the chaotic shadows, and the pitch-black sky. His smile was filled with mockery and bitterness.
Should he be grateful? She was finally standing before him, safe and sound, and she still trusted him completely.
But how was he to face this chaotic situation before him?
It seemed as though fate had never been kind to him!
Chu Qiao was momentarily taken aback. That expression, that demeanor—they seemed so familiar. Yet, after such a brutal slaughter, her mind had grown rigid. There were things she simply wouldn't think to question.
She merely frowned, staring at the man in the darkness, then gripped her blade and slowly, very slowly, took a step forward.
With a sharp rustle, the Yan guards stepped forward in unison.
At that moment, the man suddenly raised his hand and made a light, sweeping gesture to his sides.
Instantly, everyone was stunned, for that gesture was an order to let them go!
"Young Master!"The Liu family's steward stepped forward in panic and said in a low voice, "How can this be..."
The man's gaze instantly turned sharp as ice and snow, coldly fixed on the steward. It carried anger, disgust, and even a hint of maddened bloodlust.
Steward Lin felt a chill run down his spine and quickly turned around as instructed, addressing Chu Qiao and Zhuge Yue: "The young master has agreed to let you go."
Chu Qiao and Zhuge Yue were taken aback, their eyes showing no surprise but rather staring at the man as if he were some kind of monster.
Steward Lin impatiently snapped, "Get lost! Do you need us to escort you out?"
"Xing'er, let's go."
Chu Qiao frowned, still puzzled as she looked toward the dark tent. Zhuge Yue grabbed her arm and said firmly, "Come with me!"
Their earlier attack on the central tent had been purely tactical. Now that they were unexpectedly being allowed to leave, whatever the reason might be, there was no reason to hesitate any longer.
Zhuge Yue and Chu Qiao mounted two riderless warhorses. Zhuge Yue turned back to look at the dark tent and declared solemnly, "Liu Xi, if you ever fall into my hands someday, I will grant you the same chance to live."
There was no sound from the darkness. Just as Chu Qiao was about to spur her horse away, a soft sigh suddenly drifted through the air—so weary, so helpless, as if exhaling all the strength from his body.
The man whispered softly, "Be careful."
The voice was so faint, so quiet, yet Chu Qiao heard it clearly. Her body stiffened instantly, and she sharply turned her head back.
Rows of dark-clad soldiers stood between them, blocking any view of the man. All she could hear was the pouring rain and continuous rolls of thunder echoing across the vast, empty land.
The cold wind lifted her icy, damp long hair, carrying with it the thick scent of blood—so pungent, so foul.
"Hyah!"
Zhuge Yue shouted coldly, spurring his horse into a gallop.
Chu Qiao's brow remained tightly furrowed. Finally, she turned back around and followed behind Zhuge Yue, galloping through the mud and muck toward the camp's exit.
The storm grew fiercer. Heavy breathing filled the air as the soldiers looked at each other, watching their enemies ride away unscathed. For a moment, everyone was briefly stunned.
"Young master!"
A Jing turned around anxiously and cried out, "That's the young lady! How can we let her leave with Zhuge Yue?"
"What else can we do?" Yan Xun turned around with a bitter smile. "Should I remove my mask and tell A Chu that I was behind all this?"
The clouds were dark, the rain unceasing. The dim yellow sunlight at the horizon signaled that this long, cold, and desolate night was finally coming to an end.
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