Chapter 81

The night wind howled, rushing in alongside the figures outside the dilapidated temple.

Some crashed through the windows, while others burst through the already broken wooden door, flooding into the abandoned side room in unison.

The pitch-black room was instantly crowded with people.

But Yiling heard nothing.

Even though the space around her was packed, she still felt as though she were stranded on a deserted island.

When Xie Hengzhi dropped his head and collapsed to the ground,

Yiling continued to stare blankly straight ahead, not even blinking.

Her hands, still gripping the knife, trembled uncontrollably, frozen in place.

The pungent smell of blood filled the air.

She lowered her gaze like a marionette, her eyes falling on Xie Hengzhi lying on the ground.

Dressed in dark clothing, he almost blended into the night, except for the dagger lodged in his chest, which glinted coldly.

A sharp ringing buzzed in her ears, overwhelming her senses and leaving her dizzy.

She couldn’t move, only watching helplessly as Dao Yu and Li Chun crawled to Xie Hengzhi’s side, their mouths moving as if calling out to him.

But Xie Hengzhi showed no response.

Yiling’s legs finally regained sensation, but they were so weak she could no longer stand.

As she collapsed next to Xie Hengzhi, Li Chun and others lifted him away, carrying him out of her sight.

The space before her became empty once again.

Her consciousness returned at last. Yiling trembled, her mind buzzing as she turned her head and spotted Xin Shaoyan in the corner.

An arrow was lodged in his throat, his eyes wide open and unseeing, blood still gushing from the corners of his mouth.

Beside him, the ropes binding Yiyun’s hands and feet had already been untied by the arriving archers, and the gag in his mouth was removed.

Though supported to his feet, Yiyun didn’t approach. Instead, he stood motionless, staring blankly at Yiling.

His lips moved slightly, forming two silent words.

A burning sensation rose in her chest, making it hard for her to breathe.

Yiyun had been saved.

He was unharmed.

Fixing her gaze on Yiyun, Yiling forced herself to stand and rushed out of the room.

In the locust grove outside the ruined temple, hurried footsteps echoed, yet no one made a sound—not even a breath.

The brief delay had cost her. By the time Yiling caught up, Xie Hengzhi had already been placed in a carriage.

Li Chun climbed into the driver’s seat. Just as he raised the whip, he seemed to sense something and turned around.

Seeing Yiling running toward him, Li Chun’s eyes flickered briefly.

Yiling opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but her throat seemed sealed, not a single sound escaping.

In the next moment, the whip cracked, and the carriage sped away, Li Chun not sparing her another glance.

Yiling stood rooted to the spot, watching blankly as the carriage disappeared into the distance.

The accompanying guards mounted their horses one after another, riding after the carriage and leaving Yiling behind without saying a word.

A gust of wind swept by. Yiling turned her head and saw Dao Yu on horseback, pausing beside her.

Sweat glistened on Dao Yu’s face, her chest heaving with urgency.

Yet just as Yiling thought Dao Yu would leave like the others, she leaned down and extended her hand.

Half an hour later.

The normally spacious living quarters now seemed crowded, filled with doctors and servants. 

Imperial Doctor sent from the palace continued to arrive, their presence overshadowing the lingering scent of incense burned since last night.

Yiling stood by the door, her fingers gripping the doorframe so tightly her knuckles turned white, her nails digging into the wood.

Just a few more steps, and she would be at the bedside.

But her legs refused to move.

People bustled in and out, doctors passing by her repeatedly, while Dao Yu and Li Chun came and went.

Even Mama Cao’s figure flitted among the crowd, directing maids to fetch whatever the doctors required.

Yet none of it felt real to Yiling.

The surrounding noise fluctuated, distant and ethereal.

It was as though she were trapped in a dream, everything before her a mere illusion.

Until a sudden cry pierced her ears: “Madam!”

Yiling turned her head to see a maid carrying hot water, about to enter.

She stepped aside immediately, releasing her grip on the doorframe only to feel the delayed pain in her fingertips.

The doctors’ movements grew more frantic, and Yiling backed away step by step until she reached the window.

Peering through the narrow opening, she caught sight of the matriarch’s back.

Yiling’s gaze drifted beyond her, toward the bed.

But she still couldn’t see anything. A dense crowd of heads blocked her view entirely.

And yet she was less than ten feet away from that bed.

Something compelled her to crane her neck, standing on tiptoe, trying to see more clearly.

At that moment, a voice rang out from the moon gate.

“Dr. Cen is here! Dr. Cen has arrived!”

A white-bearded man hurried in, and everyone made way for him as he passed.

The palace Doctor, accustomed to treating pampered nobles, had little experience with knife wounds.

What’s more, they knew that removing the dagger was imperative, yet no one dared act rashly.

A single misstep in force or angle could lead to fatal blood loss, a situation even the gods could not reverse.

Thus, they waited for the military physician, Dr. Cen.

Now that he had arrived, the Doctor clustered around the bed and stepped aside to give him space.

At that moment, Yiling finally saw Xie Hengzhi clearly.

The instant her gaze landed on him, Yiling’s legs buckled, nearly giving out beneath her.

Xie Hengzhi lay quietly on the bed, his face as pale as paper, devoid of vitality.

Only the slight rise and fall of his chest, where the dagger remained embedded, indicated he was still alive. Yet even that faint movement grew weaker with each breath, as if a single gust of wind could snuff out the life left in him.

By now, daylight had broken, and the room was filled with the glow of countless candles.

Everything before her screamed that this was no dream, no illusion.

Scenes from the ruined temple flashed vividly in her mind. Staring at the dagger in Xie Hengzhi’s chest, she couldn’t help but recall the moment she had plunged it into him with her own hands.

Even the voice of Xin Shaoyan urging her to take revenge seemed to still echo in her ears.

This was what Xie Hengzhi deserved.

He was cold and ruthless, indifferent to human life. When he shot her dead with an arrow in Qingyang, he hadn’t hesitated in the slightest.

A life for a life—it was only right and proper.

The grievances between her and him were destined to be resolved; there was no chance of leaving things unfinished…

Suddenly, through the window, the voice of Dr. Cen came through.

“Mrs. Xie, the Lord’s pulse is barely detectable. We must draw the blade immediately; there’s still a ten percent chance of saving him! Otherwise, death is certain!”

The moment those words fell, Yiling’s mind went completely blank, as if all her thoughts had been swept away.

Before she could react, another voice came from inside the room. It was Mrs. Xie; her response was a single word: 

“Draw!”

The sharp hum of noise rang through her mind once again, piercing her ears.

As the world spun around her, Yiling clearly saw the moment Dr. Cen drew the blade, blood spurting out in a violent spray.

Yiling couldn’t tell if it was the ground beneath her feet trembling or her own legs that were shaking.

Her vision blurred more and more, and anxious shouting erupted from inside the room.

The voices came and went, drifting in and out around Yiling’s ears.

Even through the window, she could smell the pungent scent of blood.

Xie Hengzhi was dying.

Yiling felt as if she were falling endlessly into a bottomless abyss.

Xie Hengzhi was dying. Her great vengeance had been achieved.

A loud “thud” resounded.

The delayed pain of her body hitting the ground finally registered.

Yiling gasped for air, unsure if her trembling jaw was forming a laugh.

Someone rushed forward to support her—it seemed to be Mallow.

“Madam! Madam!”

“The Lord will be fine; you must hold on!”

What do I need to hold on to? 

I killed him with my own hands. My vengeance has been fulfilled.

Mallow kept speaking anxiously, but Yiling couldn’t make out a single word.

She only wanted to push her away.

Yet when she raised her hand, she realized it was shaking uncontrollably.

Her entire lapel was soaked, as if it had been dipped in water, it was all from the tears streaming down her face.