Shen Langhun glanced at Wan Yu Yuedan. He had come to Azure Fall Palace seeking aid, hoping only that the palace would dispatch sufficient manpower to rescue people in Chengfeng Town. He never expected Wan Yu Yuedan to personally set out without a single soldier or attendant. Even more unexpected was that Azure Fall Palace had suffered the calamity of Raging Orchid No Trace, and Wan Yu Yuedan dared to stake his life in a desperate gamble for victory. This young palace master appeared gentle and delicate, standing before Raging Orchid No Trace like a white rabbit. Yet the more he spoke, the less one sensed his "weakness." Instead, an elegant, kingly aura emanated from his every movement.
He only saw Wan Yu Yuedan’s wisdom and courage, unaware that Wan Yu Yuedan’s decision to "negotiate with a tiger for its skin" wasn’t solely because he had no intention of risking Azure Fall Palace’s members in Chengfeng Town, nor entirely because he sought a sliver of survival from Zhu Yan’s grasp. Rather, he genuinely hoped that the journey to Wangting Manor might offer some help to Raging Orchid No Trace.
Wan Yu Yuedan was a saint of love, while Raging Orchid No Trace was a madman of love.
To be devoted to love is a beautiful thing. But to be so devoted—so devoted that one doesn’t care about being used, only to still fail in the end—that is a tragedy beyond measure.
Wen Ren Nuan was dead. He hoped Xue Tao was not.
Even if Xue Tao was already dead, he didn’t want Raging Orchid No Trace to trample over morality and reputation only to see Xue Tao’s corpse in Xifang Tao’s hands.
A saint of love always holds a measure of sympathy for a madman of love.
The night was dark as slumber.
At the entrance of Wangting Manor, torches blazed high. Twenty masked figures clad in embroidered black robes stood in a row. In the nearby woods, bodies hung from the trees, while two wooden stakes had been erected at the manor’s entrance, suspending a child and an old man. Both had their limbs bound, but their mouths were left unblocked. The child wailed hoarsely, while the old man groaned weakly in a raspy voice. From the woods nearby, their loved ones screamed in anguish, their cries piercing yet strangely isolated in the silent night, feeble and alone.
Fu Cui sat not far from the stakes, savoring a plate of braised pig’s trotters with relish. Bai Suche stood beside her, neither watching Fu Cui’s eating nor the two hanging from the stakes. Her gaze remained calm, fixed on the pitch-black distance as if waiting for something.
Most of the night had passed, yet Tang Lici and his companions had not appeared. Bai Suche observed carefully. In the boundless darkness, it seemed as though the entire world had shrunk to this single corner illuminated by torchlight, reduced to the twenty or thirty people around her. Justice, righteousness, good and evil, the common folk—all had vanished into the dark. She stared into the blackness, unblinking. Every night was this dark. Every night, she longed to see the face she yearned for in her heart, hoping it would grant her the courage to keep going. But no matter how much she wished, nothing appeared before her window—not even the ghosts of those who had died unjustly by her hand came to demand her life.
Chi Yun was dead…
She felt a sorrow deeper than she had imagined. She had never intended to marry Chi Yun, and for that, she felt no guilt. But she had also never treated him kindly, and for that… she felt profound regret. Had they not met the way they did, had there been no chaos from Dissolute Shop, had there been no Tang Lici, had she not been ordered by her parents to marry Chi Yun—perhaps… perhaps… everything wouldn’t have ended this way.The night was thick, as if capable of devouring everything. Even though the torches burned brightly, fingers remained cold.
"Hmm—looks like they're not coming. Chop them." Fu Cui had eaten half of the braised pig's trotter and seemed satisfied. She waved her hand dismissively. "Chop them!"
Two black-clad men swiftly drew their swords and swung them toward the necks of the two people tied to the wooden stakes. Though swords were meant to be light and agile, the two wielded them like heavy blades, their movements fierce and powerful.
"Wait." A voice came from the distant woods—slightly weak but calm. "Release them." He spoke only four words. Fu Cui, who had been chewing on the pig's trotter, spat it back onto the plate. "Pah! Tang Lici? You bastard, you're really not dead yet?"
A figure emerged slowly from the woods. Behind him, a crowd of men, women, and children scrambled away—just freed from the trees. Bai Suche blinked slowly. She had been staring in that direction all along, her gaze unchanging, as if devoid of any emotion.
Tang Lici wore a lotus-root-colored robe, altered by A Shui from a farmer's quilt cover. The garment fit well, though it seemed crude compared to his usual attire. Under the orange torchlight, his face appeared pale, and his steps were unsteady as he leaned against a nearby tree. Bai Suche's pupils contracted slightly. Even in this state, he still insisted on coming out to save them?
Fu Cui burst into laughter and pointed at the stakes. "Chop them now!" Without waiting for her order, the twenty black-clad men surrounded Tang Lici. The two swordsmen increased their force, swinging again at the necks of the bound prisoners. Mid-swing, two sharp "clangs" rang out—their swords snapped in half. Fu Cui leaped to her feet. "Seems that stab Shen Langhun gave you wasn't deep enough."
Tang Lici remained leaning against the tree. The objects that had shattered the swords were two pearls, now lying intact on the ground, gleaming under the torchlight. Fu Cui grinned and stepped in front of the stakes. "Well, well, these pearls must be worth at least a hundred taels of silver. Young Master Tang's gifts are indeed extraordinary. But I wonder if the mountains of gold and jewels in Ten Thousand Apertures House can save your life tonight." Tang Lici's face was deathly pale—Bai Suche had seen him several times but never this ashen. He glanced at the people on the stakes. "Release them."
"Nonsense!" With a flick of her wrist, Fu Cui unleashed a bizarre weapon—neither whip nor sword, covered in barbs, softer than a flexible sword yet not as supple as a whip. "If I can't kill you today, I'll change my name to Xiao Cui!" Tang Lici pressed a hand to his abdomen, his energy clearly low. He gave Fu Cui a faint look. "Do you know—I killed Wei Beiyin in one move?" Fu Cui's expression faltered slightly. "Bah! How do you know I didn't kill Wei Beiyin in one move? Su Su, step back. Tonight, I'll face Young Master Tang alone!" Bai Suche, who had already drawn her blade, bowed slightly at the command and retreated."Alone?" Tang Lici exhaled slightly, "No regrets?" Fu Cui's weapon trembled like a coiling dragon and snake, lashing toward him—"Five Emerald Mountain Splitter!" Tang Lici's right hand spread slightly, and the crowd saw dozens of palm shadows streak through the air. Three sharp cracks sounded in succession as the barbed tip of Fu Cui's bizarre whip-like weapon landed in Tang Lici's grasp, while she herself took three palm strikes to her body. With a "wah," she spat out blood. With a flick of his hand, the strange weapon slipped from Fu Cui's grip. Holding it like a silver serpent, his eyes dull with disinterest, he said indifferently, "Someone like you is utterly worthless. Yu Qifeng, Lin Shuangshuang, Wei Beiyin, and an unnamed martial arts master from Wudang—even the four of them together couldn't touch me. Did you really think you, Fu Cui, were far superior to them? I may be a little lightheaded, but I'm hardly a drowning dog yet."
Fu Cui flew into a rage, flipping back onto her feet. "Damn you!" She drew a dagger from her robes and lunged forward. Despite her plump figure, the dagger danced with surprising agility, thrusting high and slashing low. Yet Tang Lici merely flicked his right hand again, sending another flurry of palm shadows through the air. In an instant, the dagger was in his grasp. Before Fu Cui could react, a cold night breeze brushed past her face—Tang Lici had already moved past her, sealing the acupoints of the two executioners, seizing a longsword in the process. A flash of brilliance, and blood sprayed as twenty black-clad men screamed and collapsed, most dead or grievously wounded. Bai Suche had barely drawn her blade when Tang Lici's hand pressed against its spine. "Don't make me say it a third time—release them." Before Bai Suche could respond, the surviving black-clad men hastily untied the two prisoners from the wooden stakes. The moment they touched the ground, they fled without even thanking Tang Lici, supporting each other in their desperate escape.
"I truly am not at my best," Tang Lici said coolly, watching Bai Suche, "but I'm still far from incapable of dismantling Wangting Manor. Killing any one of you would hardly trouble me." He raised his arm, bracing it against the tree behind Bai Suche, his gaze fixed on her. "The only reason you're still alive is because I've granted you mercy... How laughable. The illustrious Dong Princess of the Dissolute Shop, Fu Cui, and the exalted White Attendant Bai Suche—neither of you has realized..." Bai Suche leaned back slightly. As Tang Lici spoke, his eyes were filled with loneliness. The speaker was undeniably powerful, yet that strength was hollow, as if it had no foundation. She replied coldly, "Those two villagers' lives meant nothing to you, Young Master Tang. If you didn't come to kill, did you truly come to save them?"
"Human lives... mean little. I've killed many." The corners of Tang Lici's eyes lifted slightly in a faint smile. "I've never liked being threatened." His pale finger pointed toward the woods, then slowly gestured at the darkness behind Bai Suche. "Human lives, insects—they should all receive their fortune by my grace, then thank and revere me for it. To live is by my mercy; to die requires my permission..." His voice softened. "Slaughtering the weak and defenseless is something I do not permit. Do you understand?"
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