Tong, startled, quickly drew his sword and lunged to counter the attack.
However, something strange happened—Ming Li made no attempt to dodge!
With a soft “crack,” the rushing figure was severed cleanly at the waist.
But in that same instant, Ming Li had managed to get within a foot of Tong. The hidden weapons in his hand flew out—not aimed directly at Tong, but colliding with each other in midair at a strange angle. Suddenly, a purple smoke exploded in the air, enveloping Tong completely!
At such close range, there was no time to evade.
With a “thud,” Ming Li's corpse fell onto the glacier, split into two pieces. At the same time, Tong also collapsed to the ice, clutching his eyes!
The Bloodletting Sword slipped from his grip, and his body trembled violently as an unspeakable pain surged through him, overwhelming his ability to endure. He lay on the glacier, letting out a bloodcurdling scream!
What was this… what was happening? His eyes—he couldn’t see!
The pain stabbed through his very soul, an agony so intense it could shatter a person in an instant.
“Foolish Tong…” As he writhed on the glacier in agony, a familiar voice rang out softly—gentle and pitiful, “Did you really think the Grand Light Palace’s throne could be overthrown so easily?… How naive.”
That voice… it was the Holy Leader!
Tong didn’t look up, desperately trying to focus his mind. He reached out, groping for the sword that had fallen beside him, trying to judge the direction of the exit from the Heavenly Paradise.
—He had to get off the mountain and regroup with Miao Huo immediately, or else…
“Heh, still trying to escape?” At that moment, as if reading his thoughts, something was tossed onto the ice with a loud thud. It was the snarling, severed head of a man. “You were hoping for help from an ally? Ha, that foolish Miao Huo—how could he possibly be a match for Miao Shui? You’ve chosen the wrong companions… my dear Tong.”
Miao Shui? That woman… had she ultimately betrayed them?
Tong’s hand reached out for the Bloodletting Sword, but the searing pain in his eyes rapidly clouded his mind. He barely managed to lift himself before collapsing again, hands clutching his eyes as his body trembled uncontrollably.
“Look at this, even Tong can’t withstand it,” Miao Shui’s voice rang out, playful and seductive, as she laughed beside him, “Holy Leader, the Seven-Star Begonia certainly lives up to its reputation.”
The Seven-Star Begonia! Even in his agony, Tong shuddered at the words, feeling a bone-deep despair.
It was a poison no one had ever managed to cure. It was said that, twenty years ago, even the master of the Apothecary Valley, Lin Xia, had spent a month trying to solve its mystery, only to die from mental exhaustion, coughing blood.
What made the poison truly terrifying was its slow, excruciatingly painful death, corroding the victim from within.
The elderly Holy Leader, standing tall beside the graceful Miao Shui, bent down to gaze at the writhing traitor on the ground. He sighed softly, “What a pity, Tong. I treated you like my own eyes, yet you betrayed me. How strange… why did you dare to do such a thing?”
The Holy Leader's eyes glinted with a cold smile, “Could it be… you’ve remembered your origins?”
Those words, sharper than any poison, struck Tong like a blade, causing his body to stop struggling instantly.
He convulsed, raising his head to glare at the Holy Leader. However, his once-clear, ever-changing eyes had lost their light, now covered by a terrifying blood-red hue.
His origins?… Could it mean…?
“Fool, you haven’t fully regained your memory? Two of the three gold needles are already loosened.” The Holy Leader laughed, his fingers hovering above the final gold needle in Tong’s skull. “The massacre of the Mojia clan… all that blood, you’ve forgotten it all? So, you didn’t betray me for revenge after all, but purely out of ambition?”
Tong's head shot up, his blood-red eyes flashing with a brutal light.
Mojia clan!
The name that Xue Zi Ye had mentioned now spilled from the Holy Leader’s lips, as clearly as fire burning in his heart. In an instant, he could no longer feel the physical pain, as another, deeper agony tore through his soul, making him tremble uncontrollably.
“It’s true…” he finally rasped, his voice hoarse. “Why?”
The Holy Leader tapped his golden staff on the ice, letting out a cold laugh. “Why ask why? The Mojia clan had the blood of demon eyes. Once I claimed you, how could I allow that bloodline to continue and fall into someone else’s hands?”
The man on the ground suddenly sprang up, launching himself toward the sound of the voice.
“Monster!” Tong’s roar, fueled by both shock and fury, seemed to grant him an immense burst of power—enough to render the poison ineffective for a moment.
A pale blue wind swept by, and something unfurled in the snow. Tong’s final strike collided with something soft—it was Miao Shui’s Heavenly Net Umbrella, which had opened to protect the Holy Leader. The soft, yet unbreakable fabric absorbed the last of Tong’s strength, letting out a soft tearing sound as a small crack appeared.
“Incredible… Even with injuries like that, and after being poisoned by the Seven-Star Begonia, you can still move?” Miao Shui giggled, looking down at the tear in her umbrella with a mix of pity and admiration. “You truly are impressive, Tong. But…” She gently tapped his shoulder with the umbrella’s tip, and with a “crack,” the sound of a bone breaking echoed, and Tong finally collapsed heavily onto the ice.
She laughed again, “But with that last move, you’ve exhausted the very last of your strength, haven’t you? Now, with the Seven-Star Begonia running through your body, the pain will only get worse.”
Tong lay on the snow, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Though he gritted his teeth to stifle any sound, his body trembled uncontrollably. Miao Shui pressed the umbrella tip against several points on his body, sealing off his major pressure points.
“How pitiful… You don’t want to die?” The Holy Leader looked down at the fallen Tong, stroking his beard with a smile. “Beg me for mercy, then.”
“Pah.” Tong spat out blood, gritting his teeth in a cold sneer. “Kill me!”
The Holy Leader waved his sleeve, deflecting the blood with ease. He stared down at Tong's defiant eyes, his expression slowly becoming twisted with anger. His hand returned to Tong’s crown, fingers brushing against the final gold needle embedded in his skull. In a voice dripping with cruelty, he spoke slowly and deliberately, “Very well, I’ll grant you mercy one last time—before you die, I’ll let you remember everything from twelve years ago, Tong!”
The Holy Leader's fingers suddenly pressed down hard, and with a flash of blood, the gold needle was pulled from the back of Tong’s skull and buried into the snow.
“Letting you die without knowing the truth would be far too kind!” The Holy Leader used his golden staff to lift Tong’s chin, his voice laced with sadistic glee. “Tong… my precious Tong, making you forget was an act of mercy on my part. But since you refuse my kindness, now, I will take that mercy back. Relive those memories in full!”
As the final needle was removed, countless fragmented memories surged up from the depths of his mind, drowning him instantly.
What were these images? A dark room… chains binding his hands… those clear eyes in the night, gazing quietly at him. Blood and fire engulfing the night, two figures disappearing across the ice.
That… that was—
“No… no… Ah! Ahhhhh!” Tong clutched his head, letting out a guttural wail as he rolled in the snow, blood soaking the ground around him—those memories rushing back with such force that they threatened to drive him mad.
Miao Shui shielded the Holy Leader from the wind and snow with her umbrella, her eyes also showing a hint of fear. The old man had removed the golden needle from Tong’s crown, smiling as he awakened the sealed, blood-soaked memories within Tong’s mind, cruelly closing in step by step—
“Tong, have you forgotten? It was I who brought you back when you were on the verge of collapse, sealing away those memories for you.”
“Otherwise, you would have gone mad, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t you want to remember what you’ve done?—To escape, you agreed to become my slave. To prove your loyalty, you followed my orders, picked up a sword, and joined the ranks of the assassins... Heh, the first time you killed someone, you were so scared, you couldn’t stop crying. Such a weak child... Who would’ve thought you’d become so bold now?”
The demon's voice whispered in his ear, each word resonating with the memories rising in his mind, reconstructing the bloody truth of that night twelve years ago. Tong was pinned to the snow by those memories, each one a searing pain, cutting him deeper and deeper, unable to move.
Yes, yes... He remembered it all! Everything had come back!
That night... that bloody night, he was running, chasing those two people, his hands stained with blood.
He had been so desperate to survive, to gain his freedom, to protect himself. He had knelt before that devil, agreeing to serve, and then, sword in hand, had been forced to hunt down the people of his own village... Those uncles, aunts, and children, all fleeing across the snowy fields, their desperate and heart-wrenching cries echoing behind them, while countless assassins from the Grand Light Palace pursued them, torches in hand.
And he... he had been one of those pursuers. Covered in blood, sword in hand, no different from the killers around him.
That night, in the heavy snowfall... the blood, the blood…
Suddenly, he howled in agony, burying his head in his hands, shaking violently.
Why did he have to remember? Why did such things have to come back to him? Why did he have to remember who he had been?
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