The moonlight fell like a silken wash, scattering over his handsome face, making him resemble a Banished Immortal descending to the mortal worldânoble, cold, and aloof...
A group of Andu Army soldiers rushed forward, stunned at the sight of the Prince of Yunchuan under the moonlight.
Chunyu Yan was far too beautiful.
Too unexpected.
The soldiers could hardly believe it.
Who didnât know the Prince of Yunchuan was a ruthless, terrifying monster?
He wore a mask all year roundâwasnât he supposed to be hideous and grotesque? But instead, his face turned out to be breathtakingly exquisite?
So astonishingly handsome that he didnât even seem humanânot like a normal person. His beauty defied the heavens. A single smile could bring an entire city to its knees, rendering all things in the world pale in comparison...
"Chunyu Yan!"
Feng Yun couldnât control the galloping Zhuifeng and shouted as she turned back, "Run!"
"Hurry! Donât be so stubborn!"
The sharp sound of wind whooshed past, piercing the ears.
The heavens stretched vast and high, and the manâs beauty under the starlight and moon seemed almost surreal. The Qiu Tong whip in his hand glimmered, as if shrouded in a faint halo. His long robes fluttered, the whipâs body flew at an angle, and his figure gradually disappeared amid the surging crowd...
The soldiers surrounding him grew more and more numerous.
Spears, blades, and halberds packed in tightly, leaving no room to breathe.
Thud! Wen Xingsuâs Zhanjiao sword pierced deeply into his body...
Chunyu Yanâs figure jolted, his teeth clenched as he held onto his chest, his gaze fixed on the retreating horse. His voice, tinged with a mocking laugh, stretched long.
"In her heart... Wen Xingsu... youâll never surpass me, never..."
Fresh blood dripped down the tip of the Zhanjiao blade.
Wen Xingsu aimed his sword at Chunyu Yanâs throat, his cold eyes fixed in the direction where Feng Yun had disappeared.
"Why not find outâdoes she even care if you live?"
The smell of blood wafted on the wind.
At that moment, Feng Yun couldnât tell whether it was anger or disappointment that weighed heavier in her heart.
Zhuifeng, as if sensing something or understanding something, gradually slowed down. Its hooves treaded restlessly on the soft grass, letting out an eerie, piercing neigh.
It was calling for its master.
At last, Feng Yun grabbed the reins, turned around, and cast a glance at the long Changhe River under the moonlight, her gaze finally landing on Wen Xingsu.
"Spare his life, and Iâll go with you."
She couldnât see Chunyu Yanâs current state, nor did she know the extent of his injuries.
But this was what she had to do...
Otherwise, every step she took with Zhuifeng to leave would become a torment for the rest of her life.
Wen Xingsu rode closer to her and reached out his hand.
Feng Yun ignored it and walked straight past him.
Wen Xingsu said, "You have feelings and loyalty for him."
Feng Yun replied, "I have feelings and loyalty for all who are worthy."
Wen Xingsu fell silent.
He understood that from this moment on, he was no longer among those deemed worthy.
The wind by the river was loud.
Shentu Jiong couldnât hear what they were saying and hesitated for a moment before stepping closer.
"My lord, he canât make it..."
Feng Yunâs body stiffened.
Wen Xingsu glanced at her briefly, letting out a faint sigh.
"Carry him back. Donât let him die halfway. In times of chaos, the wild dogs are many."
Feng Yun stood silently, her expression nearly numb.
A few corpses were dragged out, one of them placed onto a horseâs back.
The brocade fabric of his robes was woven painstakingly with rare silk threads, extraordinarily lavish. The golden clouds embroidered on his boots proclaimed their ownerâs noble status.
His face was obscured. Laid on the horseâs back like that, his limbs dangled lifelessly, limp, as blood dripped along, devoid of any semblance of vitality.
"Chunyu Yan." She called softly.
She thought her voice was loud, yet it was inaudible to her own ears.
It felt as faint as a mosquitoâs buzz.
Across such a distance, the scent of blood seemed to linger right under her nose...
Wen Xingsu frowned. "Do you want to see him?"
Feng Yun didnât answer, her palm tightly gripping the whistling arrow, tears streaming down her face unconsciously, silent as ever.
The crowd was noisy, yet her ears were eerily desolate.
Her gaze unfocused,
She shouldnât have blown it...
She shouldnât have sought him out...
Knowing escape was impossible, why hadnât she let go?
Her body swayed abruptly, tilting off her horse and collapsing to the ground...
"Yaoyao!" Wen Xingsu reached out, his previously calm and handsome face seemingly encased in a thick layer of icy frost.
He caught her in his embrace.
Just like that year in the Feng Residenceâs backyard, when a boy held the trembling, half-soaked little girl in his arms.
"Yaoyao, itâs okay now. Big Brotherâs here, Big Brotherâs here."
Helpless, like a flustered youth, he hurried to place her on a horse.
"My lordâ"
The sound of hoofbeats merged with the scoutâs urgent shout, rolling along the river embankment.
Drawing closer and closer until the scout fell before Wen Xingsu.
A long arrow was embedded in the scoutâs back.
"...My lord... Pei Jue... is... coming..."
Wen Xingsu lowered his gaze to the person in his arms, then looked into the distance.
"He comes just in time."
He turned back to Shentu Jiong. "Gather the troops and prepare for battle."
Shentu Jiong pressed his lips together and cast a glance at Feng Yun.
She was so frail she seemed all but reduced to a bundle of bones.