"Young lady, at such a tender age, you fail to grasp the gravity of the situation. Liu Yan is a vile and wicked man, skilled in beguiling women. Taking him back to Shaolin will free you from suffering," said the Weeping Monk. "When you grow older, you will understand our good intentions." Yu Tuan'er paid no heed, murmuring softly, "I said... give them back to me... didn't you hear?" A Shui noticed her swaying, barely able to stand, and knew the Shaolin monks would take Liu Yan away in moments. Countless thoughts raced through her mind, yet she couldn't devise a way to make the monks abandon Liu Yan. Seeing Yu Tuan'er refusing to yield, the Heavenly Monk hesitated briefly before flicking his sleeve toward her chest. Yu Tuan'er raised her sword to counter, but her trembling hand lacked strength—the blade clattered to the ground, its tip scraping the floor. Still, she clung stubbornly to the hilt. As the Heavenly Monk's sleeve swept toward her, a figure in purple suddenly appeared before Yu Tuan'er, who was too weak to dodge. "Master, stop!" he hastily withdrew his sleeve. "This matter does not concern you, benefactress. Do not—" Before he could finish, a faint "whoosh" sounded, and a Black Short Arrow pierced his chest. His expression unchanged, he collapsed forward with a thud.
The Seventeen Shaolin Monks erupted in shock. The Asura Monk and the Weeping Monk bent to examine the Heavenly Monk's wound—a single arrow had pierced his heart, killing him instantly. Chanting Buddhist prayers, they stood and shook their heads at the others. The remaining sixteen monks recited sutras in unison before turning toward the window, scanning the streets bathed in dawn's light. Who had struck from the shadows?
Yu Tuan'er turned her head. Liu Yan slowly opened his eyes, and their gazes met. With a clang, her sword fell as her knees buckled. Unable to stand, she crawled toward him. Though the sixteen monks watched, none intervened—with an unseen enemy lurking, none dared divert their attention.
On hands and knees, Yu Tuan'er inched to Liu Yan's lap, lifting a hand to clutch his sleeve. When he raised his right arm to pull away, she coughed up blood onto his robe, her consciousness fading. "Hey... I... don't want to be apart from you..." she whispered. "I... don't want... to..." Liu Yan's hand lowered slowly. She faintly felt him pat her head before darkness swallowed her.
"Hmm..." Feng Feng pointed a tiny finger at Yu Tuan'er, now unconscious with her head on Liu Yan's lap, then tugged hard at A Shui's hair. A Shui hugged Feng Feng closer, stepping back once, then again. Liu Yan's hand rested on Yu Tuan'er's hair, but his eyes locked onto A Shui. She retreated until her back met the wall at the corner of the hall.
"Do you hate me?"In the midst of the tense silence that had fallen over the room, where everyone was on high alert, Liu Yan looked at A Shui while gently stroking Yu Tuan'er's bloodstained, disheveled hair. He asked in a low, slow voice. A Shui smiled faintly and shook her head, remaining silent. Liu Yan watched her, his fingers lightly combing through Yu Tuan'er's dark locks, his gaze filled with a deep melancholy. "Why... do you neither fear me nor hate me?" he murmured. A Shui listened, then after a moment, closed her eyes and shook her head again. Only after a long pause did she slowly reopen them.
She saw Liu Yan's fingers tighten around Yu Tuan'er's hair, gripping so hard it seemed he might crush the strands. His eyes brimmed with profound sorrow, but after asking that one question, he said nothing more.
Suddenly... she felt that this man was truly pitiable.
He had always been someone else's pawn—in the past, and now, and likely forever. He lacked the power to escape this fate. No matter how he struggled, his thoughts and actions were always part of another's schemes... As she watched the sorrow in his eyes and the way his hand lingered on Yu Tuan'er, she realized in that moment that this man truly cared for himself—deeply.
He had never treated himself kindly because he didn’t dare.
He didn’t dare because he was afraid—afraid others would discover he wasn’t truly a villain at heart.
He wanted to be ruthless and wicked because he hated Tang Lici; he had to be ruthless and wicked because that was the only way to survive in this world.
Yet his efforts only made him a pawn in others' games. His kindness had withered away, and his wickedness couldn’t even earn him a woman’s fear or hatred. And so... he could only ask about fear and hatred, too afraid to ask for anything more.
Of course, she neither feared nor hated him—nor loved him. But he looked... heartbreaking.
You... lost to Young Master Tang long ago. You tried desperately to mimic his cruelty and malice, but no matter how hard you tried, you could never become him. Because your evil... only scratches the surface—it never cuts to the bone.
At that moment, the sixteen monks in the room shifted positions, each taking strategic posts near the windows and door. The hidden arrows master outside had already killed one monk with a single shot and now lay in wait, silently seeking another opportunity to strike. But the Shaolin monks were no ordinary opponents. Taking their positions, one monk called out sternly, "Who is the master lurking outside?"
"Thwack!" The moment he spoke, a short arrow pierced through the door, shooting straight for his chest. Two Shaolin monks retaliated instantly, their finger strikes sending bursts of force toward the arrow’s origin. The door, unable to withstand the combined force of arrow and qi, exploded into splinters. Amid the flying debris, a sword flashed—followed by a muffled groan. The monk known as Bei Hao staggered, his ribs pierced, his face deathly pale.
OpenNovel