“You, since you know he’s your cousin, this man is already useless, no better than trash, yet you insist on clinging to him. He’s giving up on himself and dragging you down with him. You, wake up! Are you really so low in your own eyes? Are there no other men in this vast world worthy of your attention?”
Wanqing’s obstruction infuriated Xie Shaojun, his handsome face turning ashen. This woman was, by name, his—betrothed to him since childhood. Yet, her heart belonged to another. Though he knew his past impression of her hadn’t been favorable, the thought of her actions and their shared history made him look at her with a mix of pity and frustration.
“I know. I know what I’m doing is self-destruction. But I can’t let him go. No matter how others see him, he’s important to me. So… if you lay another hand on him, I’ll never forgive you.”
Xie Shaojun rarely spoke to her like this. Recalling their earlier schemes and his past arrogance and brutality, Wanqing found herself reconsidering him. Perhaps he wasn’t as vile as her uncle had claimed.
At the very least, he genuinely cared for her well-being. As for the rebellion—current investigations showed no trace of his involvement.
This temperamental man, though aware they were never meant to be, still earned her gratitude. Seeing his gaze grow colder at her words, she steeled herself and glared at him angrily.
“Me? You? Even if I mean nothing to you, even if you despise me—to me, you’re the first woman who ever made my heart waver. Though you reject me, I won’t stand by and watch you ruin yourself. Choose anyone else, just not him. He’s nothing like you think—he’s a scoundrel, a liar, a man who feigns weakness to manipulate sympathy. And your relationship? It defies all morality. He’ll destroy you.”
Wanqing’s words struck a nerve in Xie Shaojun. He was never one to mince words or hide his emotions.
Despite his resentment, seeing her stubborn resolve, he spoke with rare sincerity, pleading with her to reconsider her forbidden union with Leng Mingye.
“I know. Even so, I’d gladly bear the consequences. If you must kill someone, kill me. It’s all my fault—I was the one who sought him out first.”
Xie Shaojun’s uncharacteristic candor momentarily cleared her mind. Had she not known Leng Mingye’s true identity, she might have listened.
But for her uncle’s sake and the man she loved, she stood firm, gripping Leng Mingye’s hand protectively and lifting her chin defiantly.
“You—how can you be so blind? This man is deceitful through and through. I won’t kill you, but I *will* kill him. If his death is what it takes to free you from this doomed path, then let you hate me.”
Wanqing’s words left Xie Shaojun feeling helpless. People often called him reckless, but this girl—bright as she was—was impossibly stubborn.
Had Leng Mingye been the noble warrior of legend, even without his strength, Xie Shaojun might have stepped aside. But the man was a fraud, framing others and disregarding her future.
Enraged, he shoved her aside and, with a flick of his wrist, sent a blade-like energy straight at Leng Mingye’s heart.
“What are you doing?! Leng Mingye—what’s wrong? Wake up! Wake up, damn it!”
Xie Shaojun’s technique—manifesting blades from his palm—revealed his formidable skill, likely on par with Leng Mingye’s former prowess. Though she saw Leng Mingye feign weakness and dodge, the strike still landed squarely on his abdomen.
Leng Mingye groaned, collapsing to the ground, blood soaking his robes. Despite his reassuring glance, the sight of his injury terrified Wanqing.
She rushed forward, cradling him as he weakly smiled before his eyes fluttered shut. His pulse faded beneath her fingers. Desperate, she sealed his acupoints with silver needles, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop.
“My Primordial Qi has shattered his vitality. Once wounded, the bleeding won’t cease. He’ll lose consciousness, then sensation, and finally—death. I’ll resign my title and petition the Emperor to annul our betrothal. You’ll be free.”
Watching Wanqing sob over Leng Mingye’s lifeless form, Xie Shaojun stood, his own heart heavy, before turning away.
“Princess, what’s—?” Hearing Wanqing’s cries, Honglian and Wanchun hurried in, gasping at the sight of Leng Mingye’s unstoppable bleeding.
“Xie Shaojun’s unique technique—once the bleeding starts, it can’t be stopped. I’ve tried everything. Leng Mingye, you liar! You promised me! How could you break your word? Wake up!”
Despite her medical skills, Wanqing felt utterly powerless. Their act had become reality—he was dying before her eyes.
“How is this possible? What kind of technique is this? Princess, step aside—let my brother examine him. Qingfeng, now! We must use our inner energy to rouse his will to live!”
Qingfeng and Baiyu rushed in, channeling their qi into Leng Mingye, but his breath grew fainter, his body barely clinging to life.
The room was thick with despair. No matter what they tried, he wouldn’t wake.
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