The bandits let out a shrill whistle, and one of them lashed out with a whip, snatching the terrified boy away just before the blow landed, flinging him aside with astonishing speed and precision—far beyond that of ordinary bandits from the Western Regions.
But just as the knife missed its mark, the woman’s expression changed. Without hesitation, she reversed the blade and drove it toward her own throat.
“Hah… interesting little girl,” a cold voice chuckled from among the black-clad bandits. “Take her!”
The boy was thrown aside, pain coursing through his small body, rendering him immobile. He watched helplessly as the bandits swarmed his sister, knocking her knife to the ground with a single whip strike, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her onto their horses before riding off.
At just five years old, he found a spark of courage, trying to scramble to his feet to chase after them, but a whip struck his back, and he passed out from the searing pain.
When he awoke, the cold moon hung high in the sky, and the howls of wolves echoed across the barren plain.
The corpses of his people lay piled high, and countless glowing green eyes floated in the darkness—the wolves, ready for their feast. Too frightened to breathe, he watched as those eerie green eyes crept closer and closer. Trembling, he crawled toward the pile of bodies, his hand suddenly brushing against something.
—It was his sister’s bili, still stained with blood.
At that moment, he was overcome with an all-consuming despair.
Everyone was dead. He had been abandoned, left alone amidst the wolves!
“Help… help!” From afar, he heard the sound of wheels grinding against the ground, and the young boy cried out instinctively.
The golden carriage came to a halt. A middle-aged man draped in a black cloak stepped out, walking through the field of corpses and blood. Even the fierce wolves retreated as he approached, his presence calm and imposing like a mountain.
“Are you of Loulan royalty?” The man knelt down, examining the lone surviving child amidst the sea of bodies, his voice carrying an almost demonic power as he extended his hand. “Poor child, will you come with me? If you give everything to me, I will give you everything.”
Shivering, the boy stared at the handsome man for a long time, his eyes finally drawn to the large gemstone ring on the man’s finger. Something deep within his memory stirred, recalling what such a ring represented in the Western Regions. After sobbing quietly for a moment, he cautiously reached out, took the man’s hand, and pressed his lips to the gemstone.
The man smiled, his eyes gleaming like a wolf’s in the darkness.
In that instant, fate’s path took a sharp turn.
He, the son of the last King of Loulan, Yami, became Miao Feng, one of the Five Mingzi under the Sect Leader of the Grand Light Palace—the Sect Leader’s personal guardian. No longer did he have family, friends, or even a homeland. From then on, he lived solely for one person.
And how many years had passed since then?
The once-terrified boy, who had feared the dark and the bloodshed, grew strong through years of slaughter, just as his sister had commanded in her final moments. He never shed another tear. Endless killing and absolute loyalty had forged him into someone calm and indifferent. He always wore a gentle smile, seemingly at peace with the world, yet capable of taking lives in the blink of an eye.
He rarely thought about his past, his mind as still as a dried-up well.
But that bili, which had once fallen into a pool of blood, was always hidden secretly in his robes. He never showed it to anyone, but he never abandoned it either.
More than twenty years later, Miao Shui, dressed in blue, stood laughing maniacally at the jade throne, her sword having pierced through the Sect Leader’s chest.
“Sister… Sister.” A voice echoed in his heart, growing louder and louder, until it nearly shattered his eardrums. Yet he stood there, frozen, his mind blank, unable to utter a single word in the face of the woman laughing madly before him.
That’s Shanmi? Could this seductive, ruthless woman truly be his sister, Princess Shanmi?
That woman sneered, her eyes filled with venomous malice as she spoke, word by word, to the old man pinned to the jade throne: “Twenty-one years ago, my father lost to the Uyghurs, and the Loulan clan was forced to abandon our city and flee into exile. And you—you took the Uyghur king’s money, sending assassins disguised as bandits to hunt us down and wipe out my people!”
“One hundred taels of silver for each man’s head, fifty for women and children—have you forgotten?”
“—But surely you haven’t forgotten me, right? A royal family member was worth ten thousand taels each!”
The Bloodletting Sword twisted within the Sect Leader's body, shredding his internal organs, and the dragon’s blood poison coursed through him, lethal enough to kill even gods and demons. In an instant, the Sect Leader's hair and beard turned stark white, his once-radiant face now dull and lifeless, his skin wrinkled and decrepit. The immortal-like grace he once possessed was completely gone. After a bout of crazed laughter, Miao Shui, exhausted, released her grip on the sword and stepped back, sneering as she looked down at the old man slumped lifelessly against the jade throne.
“Hmph.” She let out a cold snort, then kicked the dead Sect Leader off the throne and onto the floor. “Get out of my sight.”
With a twist of her slender waist, she sat down on the now-empty throne, giggling. “Now, this place belongs to me!”
From her high vantage point, Miao Shui surveyed the hall, but suddenly, she paused—there was a pair of eyes watching her every move, filled with unfathomable, conflicting emotions, deep enough to drown someone.
Miao Feng? She was startled, gripping the blood-stained sword tighter.
In her focus on the Sect Leader, she had overlooked the second most dangerous person in the palace! With the Sect Leader dead, Miao Feng was now the most formidable figure left in the Grand Light Palace. She needed to deal with him while he was still immobilized, before he could become a threat.
Sitting on the throne, she pressed her lips into a smile and said, “Miao Feng, wasn’t your purpose in life to protect the Sect Leader? Now that the Sect Leader is dead, isn’t your existence unnecessary as well?”
Her voice was sharp and venomous, but Miao Feng remained silent, staring blankly at the beautiful woman sitting on the blood-stained jade throne, his eyes filled with an inexplicable expression.
“Miao Shui!” Xue Zi Ye, who had collapsed on the floor, suddenly trembled, raising her head with great effort and shouting, “You promised me you wouldn’t kill them!”
“Hahaha… You’re brave, I’ll give you that, but your stupidity is laughable,” Miao Shui’s mocking laughter echoed through the grand hall, full of arrogance. “A powerless doctor—what made you think you could make a deal with me? Promises require strength to enforce. Without it, they’re nothing but empty words.”
“You…” Xue Zi Ye tried to stand, but fell back onto the cold floor once more.
Her body had been deteriorating since she left Medicine Valley, and now, with the deadly poison coursing through her and after being struck by the Sect Leader’s powerful blow, even the Bi Ling Dan she had been taking to maintain her strength could no longer sustain her.
“You’re strange, doctor,” Miao Shui chuckled, glancing at Xue Zi Ye before pointing the Bloodletting Sword at Miao Feng, who was still immobilized. “Why do you care so much about whether this man lives or dies? You’re not unaware, are you, that he’s the one responsible for the massacre of the Mo Jia clan—so why would you want to save him?”
Miao Feng, who had been silent, suddenly jolted and looked up at Xue Zi Ye in disbelief—What? She knew? She knew all along that I was the one who massacred them?!
Even so... she still wanted to save him?!
“He’s nothing more than a sword used to kill,” Xue Zi Ye gasped for breath, her voice resolute. “What I want… is to sever the hand that wields the sword.”
For a moment, even Miao Shui’s laughter halted, as she stared down at the dying woman beneath the throne.
“Fine, even if you don’t kill him, I will!” Miao Shui stood, raising the Bloodletting Sword once more as she stepped down from the throne, her killing intent unmistakable.
Leaving someone like Miao Feng alive was an undeniable risk. If she didn’t kill him now, when would she get another chance?
Miao Feng watched her approach with the sword, but his eyes held no fear. In fact, a faint smile appeared on his lips, one he hadn’t worn in many days. He kept his gaze fixed on the woman: watching the way she spoke, the way she smiled, the way she held her sword… his expression was distant, as if his mind had wandered to another place.
This isn’t Shanmi... This laughing woman—she wasn’t his sister, Princess Shanmi, from his memories at all.
Miao Shui left the throne, her blood-stained sword in hand as she descended the steps, pressing a foot down on Miao Feng’s shoulder, reversing the blade to point it at his back. She sneered, “Miao Feng, I’m not trying to be ruthless—but you were the Sect Leader’s right hand. Leaving you alive is the same as dooming myself.”
“No!” For the first time, fear flashed across Xue Zi Ye’s face. “Stop!”
But Miao Feng felt no fear. He simply looked up at Miao Shui, his lips still carrying that strange, faint smile.
She’s going to kill me? Good. Very good... After all the chaos, if it can all end this way, that would be clean.
In just a few short moments, Miao Feng’s emotions had gone through a tumultuous upheaval: his benefactor had become his enemy, his adversary had turned into family... The intense waves of joy, anger, sorrow, and despair surged through him, shattering the deathly calm that had long gripped his heart.
Suddenly, his heart turned cold, devoid of hope.
“Miao Shui,” he began to laugh quietly, gazing at his sister, who stood before him, and yet even in this life-and-death moment, he didn’t reveal the truth. He simply made a calm request: “When I die, will you spare this doctor? She poses no threat to you.”
“Hah, even now, you’re still speaking up for her?” Miao Shui’s eyes gleamed with mockery, her words laced with venom. “Miao Feng, I never imagined you could love anyone other than the Sect Leader!”
Miao Feng merely lifted his gaze serenely. “Miao Shui, please spare her. I will be grateful to you.”
Miao Shui scoffed, lifting her sword and pointing it at his chest. “Well, that depends on my mood.”
Before her words had fully left her mouth, she raised the sword and slashed downwards with all her might!
“Yami!” Xue Zi Ye cried out, her heart breaking as she struggled to reach out, her voice trembling. “Yami!”
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